


Tell The World I'm Coming Home

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 100,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of her beloved Nana Molly finds herself owning half her grandmother's inn with a man she doesn't know, Sherlock Holmes. Between an outside threat from a man who wants to bring down what Sherlock has worked hard for and mutual feelings of attraction between them Molly finds this new direction in her life to be very unexpected. Can she learn to run the inn and still get everything else she wants out of life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another AU story from me, also inspired by an **imagineyourotp** prompt from Tumblr ("Imagine your OTP owning an inn together. Person A handles things with the guests, person B handles things with the staff. They also have their own apartment on the top floor"). Normally I wait until I have these completely finished before I post these, but I think I will finish it soon enough. Title comes from "I'm Coming Home" by P. Diddy feat. Skylar Grey. Enjoy!

The inn was her home. Her grandmother had owned the place since before she was born, before her mother was born. She had had all her milestones there, and the place was much more of a home than her flat in London was. It was with a heavy heart she returned now, now that her beloved grandmother had died. The funeral had been held that afternoon, and right now all the people in the village were at the inn, eating food and drinking drinks, talking about what a lovely woman Marguerite Kensington was and how much she would be missed. But Molly didn't want to hear all that right now; she just wanted to be left alone to mourn her loss.

“I'm so sorry, Molly,” she heard a familiar voice say. She looked up from her drink and saw Greg Lestrade standing there. He was the manager of the inn, someone who had worked his way up from a much smaller position. He was trusted by her grandmother implicitly, and Molly trusted him just as much. He was a very good man, well loved and well respected in the village. “Are you okay?”

She nodded slowly, not trusting herself to speak. She knew her grandmother had left part of the inn to her, and the other part to a man she had never met. Molly had never really had a head for business; she was good with anything relating to anatomy and biology, but it hadn't been her passion. Her grandmother wouldn't hear of teaching her how to run the place until recently, when Molly quit her job as a pathologist at one of London's top hospitals to do something that fulfilled her more. She'd lost her direction, and it had only been six months ago that her grandmother had thought perhaps it would be best if Molly learned to run the place. There had been plans set in place, but they all got dashed when her grandmother had a stroke. Molly had had her taken to the best hospital in London, but earlier in the week she'd had a second stroke and not survived the night.

“There he is,” Greg murmured, looking over her head.

She turned and followed his glance. “Who?”

“Sherlock Holmes,” he said after a moment. “The one in the black suit with the curly hair.”

She allowed herself to look at the man she was going to share the inn with. They had not met at all before or during the funeral. He must have been in the back. She didn't know why on Earth her grandmother had left the inn to both of them; with Greg's help she could have gotten the hang of everything on her own. She didn't need to share ownership with anyone, much less someone who couldn't be bothered to talk to her. This did not bode well for the fate of the inn, and with quite a few people in the village needing the inn to remain open for the tourists that regularly flocked to the village it just added more pressure on her shoulders. “He seems standoffish,” she said after studying him for a moment.

“That's a polite term,” he said with a sigh. “I think he wants to just sell the place and leave. You won't let that happen, will you?”

“I'll fight for this place,” she said with a grim smile. “I promise.” Then she stood up. “I want to go upstairs, go spend time in her space.”

“Of course,” he said. “I'll handle everything down here.”

“Thanks, Greg.” She set her drink down on one of the tables in the dining area and made her way to the stairs. The inn had three floors; the first held the foyer where guests came in, the kitchen, the dining area and five rooms. The second floor held the other fifteen rooms the inn had, and the third floor held the office and the apartments where some of the staff lived. The largest apartment had been her grandmother's; Greg had one of his own, as did John Watson, the man who did all the maintenance on the place, and then there was two empty ones usually reserved for the head cook and the front desk clerk. The current cook had a place in town he preferred to the two other apartments on the floor, though, and they didn't currently have a front desk clerk. She had spent much of her time going up to her grandmother's apartment ever since she could remember, every spare minute she could as a child. Her mother and father had lived in the village but away from the inn, until her father died when she was thirteen and her mother moved them to London. Then she had only come home during the summers. Greg and John were like family to her, and she knew if anyone else felt the loss as much as she did it would be them. She glanced over at the two men before she made her way up the stairs.

It wasn't until she made it up to the third floor that she felt such a surge of loss. None of the customers ever came up here, and she had spent many hours up here in her grandmother's apartment or in the office, helping out however she could when she was old enough. There had been such a warmth in the place while her grandmother was alive; now it felt cold. Maybe that was just how she felt, she thought to herself. Like all the warmth had been sucked out of the place and it was just a building now. She had made it to the top of the stairs when she heard footsteps coming up the second floor stair. She turned and waited. There were no guests at the inn right now, so it had to either have been an employee or someone who was concerned about her. Either way, she needed to brush them off to get some peace.

She was surprised when she saw Sherlock at the foot of the stairs. He looked up at her. “I thought we could talk,” he said quietly. He had a very lovely voice, she thought to herself, deep and velvety. A voice that under other circumstances could have mesmerized her.

“I kind of want to be alone right now,” she said, giving him a sad smile. “Visit her part of this place before we have to make any decisions about what to do.”

“I don't want to sell it,” he said, and she knew she must look shocked. She certainly felt shocked. “I know that's what the staff thinks, but I think with better management it could be a very well run place.”

“I don't want to get into this right now,” she said with a sigh. She would fight for Greg, because he was a good manager. But right now she just wanted to mourn in private and Sherlock wasn't allowing her to do that. “Can't this wait until tomorrow?”

“I'll be busy moving in tomorrow,” he said.

“You aren't taking my grandmother's apartment,” she said, steel in her voice. “I don't care if you do own half the place.”

He blinked. “I was going to move into one of the empty apartments up here,” he said slowly.

“Oh,” she said sheepishly. “I'm sorry. I just...with everything, I just assumed...”

“Marguerite wanted you to live there. I knew that when she told me she was leaving this place to both of us. She made me promise not to fight you on that. It's your home.” He looked at her. “I'll leave you alone now. But we need to talk soon.”

“I know.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” he said. “She was a very good woman who gave me a chance when others would not. I'll do my best to make sure this place stays in business for many years to come.” He turned and walked back down the stairs, stopping at the bottom. “Will you be moving into her apartment?”

“Probably,” she said, nodding even though his back was turned to her. “At least until we can make decisions. For all I know I'll make a hash of things and you'll force me to go back to London.”

“She had faith in you,” he said quietly, turning to look at her. “I don't think it was misplaced.”

“You don't even know me,” she said after a moment. “How can you be sure?”

“Marguerite talked about you a lot. I think I know much more about you than you realize. And I know you know nothing about me. Perhaps when I am done moving tomorrow we can talk about the business and other things. That way you know what plans you need to make.”

Molly nodded. “That sounds fine. I'll be going through her things, figuring out who was supposed to get what in the will. Any time you want to talk, come over to her door.” She frowned. “My door now, I suppose.”

“I will,” he said with a nod. He walked a few steps away and then paused in his actions. “I am not a bad man. A bit callous and cold, and sometimes easily bored, but I am trustworthy. And I made a promise to Marguerite that I intend to keep.”

Molly moved back to the stairs and stepped down a few steps. “What promise?”

“That I would teach you how to run this inn properly. All aspects of it, from bookkeeping to inventory to dealing with staff and guests. She wanted you to be the manager and Lestrade to be the assistant manager, but that can't happen until you get the hang of things. That's where I was to come in. But things got derailed with Marguerite's stroke. Once you learn and you're comfortable doing it then I'll slip into the shadows and you won't feel my presence at this place anymore. It will just be yours.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, taking a few more steps down the stairs towards him.

“I sell you my part of the inn for an obscenely low price so you own it outright. Then I leave. It's what I do best.”

“What do you do, Mr. Holmes?” she asked as she descended a few more steps.

“I generally come in to save a business that is failing. If I'm successful at retraining staff and reorganizing and updating, the business continues well after I'm gone. If I fail then the business closes up and I'll usually try and find new jobs for the competent employees. Which reminds me, when we reopen I have someone to fill the front desk position from another inn I tried to save. I think she will be a good fit.”

Molly was close to him now. Just a few more steps and she'd be on the same floor as he was. As much as she wanted to mourn her grandmother's death alone right now she had to admit that Sherlock Holmes intrigued her. She made her way down and stood near him. He was taller than her, and he had mesmerizing eyes. If she wasn't careful she might develop a serious crush on the man. “I know I said I wanted to be alone, but...do you want to talk now?”

He glanced at the other set of stairs that would lead back to the collection of mourners, and then when he turned back to her he nodded. “I don't really want to go back down there.”

“I'll make us some tea,” she said with a nod. “Then we can talk.”

“Very well.” He came closer to her and the two of them began to walk up the stairs to the third floor. She realized he had on a nice cologne, and she shut her eyes for a moment to inhale the scent. She missed the next step because of it and stumbled. She felt large hands on her waist, steadying her as she leaned into him. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Just took a misstep,” she said, giving him a smile. He removed his hands and she straightened herself up. “It's the large one on the left.”

“I've been here many times before. I used to live here, actually,” he said with a slight smile.

“How did you know my Nana?” she asked, surprised that he had spent enough time here to say he lived here. She had never met him before, never heard of him. How was that possible?

He was quiet. “My father was to be her stepson, many years ago. But his father married another woman when his family voiced their objections about your grandmother. Still, he and your grandmother were close, and when he was old enough he walked away from his family and settled in London, marrying my mother and having me. He had stayed in touch with Marguerite and when I began showing signs that I might be rebellious he had me sent here to live with her and work at the inn. I was here during the school year and back home in the summer. That's why we never met, because when your mother took you you only came in the summers.”

“No one ever said anything about you,” she said.

“I'm not surprised. I was always giving advice to people who resented it. I don't think Watson or Lestrade liked me much growing up, and it's been many years since I've been here. I only came back seven months ago, when we were planning on how to install you as the owner of the inn and what we would need to do to train you.”

“Did being here help?”

Sherlock nodded as they got to the top of the stairs. “It helped quite a bit. I had started to develop a taste for drugs at fourteen and your grandmother got me cleaned up rather quickly. She's the one who realized I had a head for business and a desire to fix things, so she set me on my career of saving businesses. I tend to focus on the smaller ones, though once or twice I have been brought in to use my skills for a corporation.”

“That's actually quite fascinating,” she said as she gave him a smile. “I wonder why she never told me about you, though.”

“She told me all about you,” he said with a faint grin. “You were a pathologist, correct?” She nodded. “Why did you leave?”

“It just wasn't fulfilling enough. I wanted to do something else but I didn't know what.” They moved to the left and to Molly's grandmother's apartment. She dug her key out of her pocket and let them in. “I was kind of wandering around aimlessly in London for a month or so when my Nana suggested I come back here and learn how to run the inn. But then she had the stroke a few weeks later and the plans changed.”

“It was a shock,” he said with a nod as she motioned for him to step into the apartment. It still looked the same as it had when she was young, other than new photographs on the walls and mantle. It was still home, and some of the warmth the inn was lacking was in this room. “She seemed so healthy and vibrant.”

They made their way to the kitchen. Her grandmother had despised electric kettles and had always had a metal one for the stove. She pulled it out of a cabinet and filled it with water, then set it on the stove and turned the stove on. “She was always the strongest woman I knew,” Molly said with a smile. “When my father died she was stronger than my mother was. My mother ran away from it all, and she took me with her. I've never really forgiven her for that.”

“Are you estranged from your mother?” She nodded. “I'm sorry.”

“It's all right. We were never really close to begin with. I don't think she loved me very much. She didn't love my Nana very much, and I adored her.” She began to pull down the tea set and the tea from the various cabinets where they were. “I still can't get over the fact that Greg and John and my Nana never talked about you. How many years did you live here?”

“Four. Instead of traveling during my gap year I stayed here and tried my hand at rescuing some local businesses that were going to go under. I was successful in all three endeavours. The businesses are still run the way I told the owners to run them, and they're thriving, even with the next generation coming in. They've all made improvements, but generally my business models are still being used.” He watched her. “I only went to university to get a business degree so I would be more marketable to people who could use my help. Otherwise I would have helped more businesses right off the bat. As it stands, I helped ten businesses while I was in university, and at least forty-five more since then.”

She added it up in her head. “So almost sixty businesses,” she said, and he nodded. “How many went under?”

“Five,” he said. “Two restaurants, a bookstore, a coffee shop and an inn. Most of those were in the early years when the economy was struggling. The inn was the most recent. That's probably why the staff thinks I want to sell this place. When it became apparent that management was not taking my ideas seriously I started looking for jobs for the other employees and sold my share of the inn to a corporation. It folded six months later. Now it's been bulldozed for a shopping centre.”

“Who are you bringing on staff here?” she asked.

“Mrs. Hudson. She's an older woman, but she's quite lovely. She'll do well at the front desk. She moved into her new home in the village yesterday.”

“Does she have a first name?” Molly asked with a smile.

“She does, but she only shares it with her favorite people, with the ones she trusts the most.”

“And you know it, I'm assuming.”

He nodded. “I do. But I won't share it until she tells me I can, or until she tells you yourself. I'll just handle her paperwork until she decides you can know.” He was quiet for a moment. “Did you know about the developer who was trying to buy this place?”

She shook her head. “My Nana didn't tell me much of the business side of things.”

“I've met him before. He's trying to be the next Donald Trump, I think. He wants to be a real estate mogul, own properties all over the world. And he keeps having a particular interest in the places I try and save. He got a hold of one of the restaurants and both the other businesses that weren't the inn. I told the owners not to sell to him because they would get cheated, but they didn't believe me.”

“Did you have shares in the businesses?”

“I did. I made him pay me a significantly higher price than the other owners got. I knew what my shares were worth and I knew how valuable the properties were.” He looked at her. “If James Moriarty comes sniffing around, have him ejected from the property. He's nothing but trouble.” Then he paused. “There's also his assistant, Irene Adler. Though I'm not sure if she's still blindly following him. He treats her poorly most of the time. But he's used her to seduce a few of the owners whose businesses he's gotten. He's not above using underhanded means to get a place.”

“I'll remember that and tell the rest of the staff to be on their guard.” She went to a cabinet and pulled out some biscuits, putting them on a plate. “There's so much I have to learn, isn't there?”

“Yes. And I get the feeling Lestrade and Watson will fight any changes I want to make. Not that I'll need to make many; your grandmother was one of the first people to implement one of my business models and it appears as though not much has changed in twenty years.”

“So you're...” She thought about it a moment. “Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight?”

“Thirty-five,” he said with a slight smile.

Her jaw was hanging open, she knew that much. “You gave her the business plan when you were _fifteen_?”

He chuckled a bit. “Yes. She had improvements, but generally the things I've suggested were accepted as they were. If it hadn't been for the increased profitability of the inn the two years before I saved the other businesses here they never would have listened to me. That is why I owe your grandmother as much as I do.”

The kettle began to whistle and she removed it from the stove and began to make the tea. “So, how much do you know about me?” she asked.

“Quite a bit. As I said, I know much more about you than you know about me. Marguerite was very proud of you. I think she wishes we had met years earlier, but after I left here I set myself up in London and didn't come back here until recently. And then once she had her stroke I didn't come back here again until three days ago. I wanted to look at the books and the inventory, and I made the decision to temporarily close the inn. Lestrade was not happy about that, even when I informed him the wages would be paid regardless, even if I had to pay them from my own account.”

“Are you worth a lot of money?” she asked, and then immediately she regretted it. It was such a crass question to ask.

“Yes. Some of the business owners whose businesses I brought back to profitability refused to buy my shares back, so I'm part owner in at least seventeen business I helped save, and then I've made investments in other businesses at the start-up. I haven't always picked the best businesses, but generally if there's trouble they come to me for help before it gets too bad and I can set them on the right path.”

“I spent most of my savings already,” she said. “I think if we had gone ahead with training me here six months ago it would be a different story, but I needed something to live off of while I wasn't working.”

“Well, you inherited money from Marguerite, right?” Sherlock asked.

She nodded. “I inherited half the inn and all of the assets she had that the lawyers were in charge of when she was ill. My mother got some money put into the trust fund my grandfather had set up for her, but the bulk of the money went to me. I don't even know how much money I received.”

“Quite a bit,” he said. “She also invested in a lot of the businesses I saved. If you got all her assets you're part owner of at least ten businesses aside from this one. I know she had sold her shares in others recently, but as far as I know there's at least ten left.”

“I don't know what to say,” Molly said in a shocked tone of voice.

“Her lawyer will explain it better than I can,” he said. “But generally you're worth around two million pounds right now, depending on how much Marguerite left your mother.”

“She had that much money?” He nodded. “I had no clue. I know there was a fund set up for her care, but that was all I was privy to. I didn't know about the rest.”

“She was trying to get money to expand, I believe. She wanted to buy the building next door to add ten new rooms so she could expand the kitchen and dining area into a more proper space here. The details are in her office. I didn't get all her files when I came back this last time, just the books. That is something you and I will need to discuss once I understand more concretely what her plans were.” He looked at her. “It's a bit of a shock, but you should go through and start figuring out her finances sooner rather than later. At least that way you can protect yourself from the Moriartys of the world.”

“I will,” she replied with a nod. She checked the tea but it wasn't ready yet. “Could you keep it quiet from everyone else? If they didn't know about my Nana having the money I don't want them to know about me being worth that much money.”

He nodded. “I can keep it quiet.” He looked at her for a moment. “You take after her very much, looks wise.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” she said with a smile.

He gave her one back. “It was meant as one. I have seen pictures of her when she was young and you look almost exactly like her.”

“My mother takes after her as well,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But my mother despises it. I always thought she was a classic beauty. My mother thinks they were both a bit hippy. I didn't get as many curves as they did. That part I took after my father. But our faces are nearly identical.”

“Your mother sounds like an unpleasant woman. Was she in attendance at the funeral?”

Molly shook her head. “She hadn't spoken to Nana since I graduated from school when I was young. I suppose it's too late now. Of course, I stopped speaking to my mother during my gap year, so it's been a long time for me as well. One day I might try and reconcile, but not any time soon.”

“Even though they were not close it doesn't surprise me that Marguerite attempted to take care of your mother,” he said, reaching over for one of the biscuits Molly had set on a plate. “She always struck me as that type of woman. Someone who would honor family commitments.”

“She paid for all my schooling when my mother stopped speaking to me,” Molly said. “I mean, university and medical school, and she supported me during my internship. All of it. She had faith in me. More faith than my mother.”

“Why did you go into that field?”

“My father was the village doctor here, before he died. He'd always wanted to see me become a doctor and heal others. But when I was in med school I realized I didn't like dealing with sick people. I was more interested in the cadavers we would have to dissect. So at the last moment I switched my focus and became a pathologist. It's an interesting job, but after a while I found myself wanting more.” She checked the tea again and saw it was ready. She went and got milk from the refrigerator and sugar and put them on the tea service, then moved it closer to Sherlock. “How do you take your tea?”

“Milk and sugar,” he said.

She smiled. “Same as me.” She prepared the tea for both of them, then handed him his cup. He took a sip as she waited, but he nodded slightly when he was done and she relaxed. “Are you leaving anyone behind in London while you're helping me learn the ropes?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I've been too focused on my career to initiate or keep many relationships,” he said. “You?”

“Just my cat, Toby,” she said with a slight chuckle. “I don't really date, either.”

“I imagine the dating pool in the village is ghastly,” he said with a slight grin.

“Most of the blokes are too young or old enough to be my father,” she said, her chuckle becoming more of a laugh. “But it's all right. I think I'll have my hands so full trying to run this place that there won't be time to think about dating. And I don't miss it all that much. I mean, I've got horrible taste in men. I think the longest I've ever had a boyfriend is three months.”

“That's two months longer than my longest relationship,” he said. “I haven't had much inclination to date and that experience convinced me that most women are just after my money and connections.”

“That's horrible,” Molly said, aghast. “You were used?”

He nodded before he took a sip of his tea. “Yes. Do you remember the Irene I mentioned?”

“Yes.”

“I dated her before I knew she was Moriarty's assistant. I was one of the men she tried to sleep with to get the business for him. I didn't catch on at first because the whole idea of being in a relationship was new to me, but then she slipped and I ended things immediately. As it stood, she didn't get what she wanted from me, and it appears that Moriarty has had a vendetta against me ever since.”

“Wow,” she said, her eyes wide. She took a sip of her tea. “We'll definitely have to keep our eyes peeled for the both of them.”

“Yes,” he said with another nod. “I imagine once we reopen and business picks up again he'll make his presence known. That's what I would do, at any rate.” He looked at his tea. “I'm glad we took the time to speak today. You are quite a fascinating person.”

“Thank you,” she said, blushing slightly. She looked down at her tea for a moment as she composed herself. When she looked up again she saw he was wearing a faint grin. “Do you want help moving in tomorrow?”

“It's mostly unpacking, as all my belongings are already in the larger apartment,” he said with a nod. “But help would be appreciated. Did you bring things here with you?”

“Just clothing and food and a few other items. Mostly I need to go through her things and give out the items she wanted given to her friends. There are so many. Then I'll go to London and see about packing up the rest of my flat and having it all sent here.”

“I imagine it's going to be hard living out of a suitcase,” he said with a frown.

“It probably will be,” she said with a slight grin. “But hopefully I can go to London by the end of the week. I have most of the important stuff packed up already, and I can see if one of my friends can have it sent here. Mostly I just want to go get my cat and the rest of my clothes. But that's one day of travel and I need to go see her lawyers anyway. I can do that in a few days.”

“You would trust your friends to do that?”

She nodded. “Yes. They're good people. I think if I ask nicely and promise them a room for the night I can convince someone to bring Toby and the rest of my clothes. We can open up one of the rooms, can't we?”

Sherlock nodded. “I don't see why not. Asking someone to make the trip and then not giving them a room for the night seems cruel, especially if they are a friend of yours.”

“Sally was talking about taking a vacation. I'll see if she wants to stay here,” she said thoughtfully. “She's been here before, when the two of us have visited my Nana. I know she was very glad I was going to run the place. She knows this is my true home.”

“She was close to your grandmother?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” Molly said with a nod. “Sally used to come with me when I visited for the summers. Her parents liked having the house child free for all that time every year. She didn't resent it because she really likes this place.” She paused for a moment. “I should call her. Would you give me a moment?”

“Of course,” he said with a nod, picking up his tea. “Take your time.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. She pulled her phone out of her pants pocket and made her way to her grandmother's bedroom. She shut the door behind her and turned her phone on, having turned it off during the funeral. Once it was one she got an alert for two voicemails and ten text messages, all from Sally. She frowned and read each of the text messages, which was one long message broken up into parts. The more she read, the more she frowned. She then listened to the voicemails. Finally she sighed and called her best friend back. “He got another woman pregnant?” Molly asked the minute Sally picked up.

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. She sounded rather depressed. “I told him to bugger off. I just finished packing up the last of my things. I knew it was a mistake to give up my place. I'm on my way to find a hotel room now.”

“No. Tonight you're going to stay at my place, and then you're going to have all your stuff shipped here to the inn, along with my stuff, and then you're going to bring Toby and you're going to get the hell out of London,” Molly said firmly. “Put distance between the two of you. A lot of distance.”

“That doesn't sound like a bad plan,” Sally said thoughtfully. “Mind if I come up in two days? I know that you got most of your place packed up, but not everything. I could spend tomorrow boxing up the rest.”

“Sally, you're a saint,” she said gratefully. “Yes, that's absolutely fine. The sooner we put London behind us, the better.”

“Well, considering I'm unemployed for the moment and my ex is a wanker who doesn't deserve me it's not like there's much holding me here,” she said. “And I always did like that village. I can find something to occupy my time.”

“You know, we do have a kitchen here, and you're a fantastic cook. Maybe you can come work at the inn, work in the kitchen?”

“That might work.” Sally sounded a little cheered up, and that made Molly feel better. “Do you have to run it by the other owner?”

“Yeah, but I think he might allow it if you can show him how well you cook. Our head cook is getting old and when I saw him after the funeral he was talking about maybe retiring. So who knows? But come here and try. I'll talk to him now.”

“He's with you now?” she asked, surprised.

“He's having tea with me at the moment. Neither of us could stand another second with the mourners. He's actually quite interesting. He saves businesses for a living.”

“That is rather interesting,” Sally said. “I guess I'll get to meet him soon enough. It's going to take a few trips to get all my stuff to your flat, so I should probably get started. I'll call you again once I've found someplace to ship out your stuff to you, all right? Do you want your furniture?”

“Yes. You'll need furniture for wherever it is you end up staying, so between my things and my grandmother's we can furnish a place for you.” Then she remembered. “The other owner is taking the larger apartment, but if he says it's all right for you to work here you can have the smaller one. I mean, it's not tiny, but it's the smallest of all of them.”

“I don't care if it's just a room with an attached bath. Anything to have space of my own again.”

“Then I'll make sure it's cleaned out for you if you end up working here. Or even if you don't. I'm an owner. You can just pay me rent if you're not working for me.”

Sally chuckled. “Perfect. I'll make sure it's all taken care of and then I'll bundle Toby up and come to Bradfield in two days.”

“All right. I'll be waiting. And Sally?”

“Yeah?”

“He doesn't deserve you. You deserve better.”

Sally chuckled slightly. “Give me a few days away from London and maybe I'll really start to believe it. Take care, Molly.”

“You too, love.” Molly hung up and made her way back to Sherlock, who was preparing himself a second cup of tea. “I'm sorry it took so long. My friend was having a personal emergency. But as it stands, she's going to pack up the rest of my flat and have it all shipped here.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked, concerned.

“She just has rotten taste in men,” she said as she went back to her tea. She picked up her cup and took another sip. “She's going to come here and start over. Our cook made noises today about leaving, so I thought she might be able to take his position if he did.”

“What's her name?” he asked.

“Sally Donovan,” she replied.

His eyes widened slightly. “I know her. She worked at one of the restaurants I saved. She's prickly, but she's quite good at what she does. I think she would be an asset.”

“Well, she left the restaurant because her now ex-boyfriend convinced her she could do better on her own. It was her second biggest mistake.”

“What was her biggest one?” he asked, curious.

“Moving in with him. He cheated on her and got the woman pregnant. The woman showed up at the flat and confronted him, not knowing about Sally. So he got it from both sides, but since it was his place Sally had to leave. She's staying in my flat tonight and tomorrow.”

“Well, I suppose it's good riddance,” he said as he finished making his tea. “And London's loss is our gain.” He took a sip of his second cup of tea. “We didn't exactly get along well, to give you fair warning. I appreciate good talent, so that is why I encouraged the owners to keep her. I would be inclined to let you deal with her since the two of you are friends, most likely. I'm probably best at dealing with the rest of the staff, and you can handle the guests and the kitchen.”

“Not that there's much staff to handle,” she said with a smile.

“That is true,” he said with a slight grin. He looked at his watch. “I suppose I should head back downstairs and get some food. I don't have anything in my flat to eat right now.”

“There's food here,” Molly said. “I could cook for you tonight. I don't want to go back down there unless I absolutely have to, and I imagine you don't want to either.”

“Not particularly, no. Too many people asking questions without getting to the point of whether I was planning on convincing you to sell the inn.”

“Which you aren't doing,” she said with a slight chuckle. “Then it's settled. I'll cook for you tonight and we can talk more about what we need to start doing.” She smiled at him. “After tea, though.”

“Yes. After tea,” he said with a nod.

She took another sip of her tea and relaxed. This all could have gone so much worse, but Sherlock was a decent enough man and Sally would be here, so all in all it was working out better than she had hoped. Now she just had to have faith that she could pick up running the business quickly and without a lot of hiccups. A lot was riding on that being the case, but those concerns could wait until the morning. Right now there was still a lot to learn about Sherlock, and she found herself eager to do just that.


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later Sally arrived with five suitcases, three boxes and a cat carrier, having taken an evening train to get there early in the morning. The boxes and furniture she and Molly were having shipped was to start showing up the next day, but for now the two women had clothing and necessities. The inn was still closed and so Molly gave one of the rooms to Sally so she would have a bed for the night. Right now, though, the two women were in Molly's new apartment as Molly sorted out who got what in the will with Sally's help.

“The painting of the pastoral landscape goes to Mr. Abel Smith,” Sally said, reading from the list the lawyer had given Molly. Molly had lucked out in that yesterday he had taken the time to start explaining her new financial situation to her so she didn't need to go to London. They were going to have another meeting tomorrow before he went back to the city where he would go over all the particulars. He was the only other person using one of the inn's rooms, as the other out of town mourners had stayed at the smaller inn in the village. Most of them had left by now.

“That would be the painting on the wall behind you,” Molly said.

Sally turned her head and looked. “It's quite pretty.”

“My Nana painted it,” Molly said with a smile. “Stand up on the sofa and take it off the wall? Mr. Smith runs the other inn so I can just walk this over to him later. I'll bundle it up, of course, but it doesn't need to be shipped anywhere.”

“Right,” Sally said with a nod, setting down the list. She climbed onto the sofa and stood on it, carefully removing the painting from the wall. When it was off she got back off the sofa and set it down. “Is anything from the inn being given away?”

Molly shook her head. “No. These are all personal belongings. John and Greg already got their things, as did Sherlock.”

“She already left Sherlock half the inn,” Sally said. “What else did she leave him?”

“A few books and some letters that were in her dresser drawer for his father,” she said. “The books were old and I think they are worth some money, but they had a sentimental value to him. I guess he read them a lot when he lived here.”

“I still can't believed he actually lived here and you never knew,” Sally said, shaking her head and picking up the list again as Molly got the painting and began wrapping bubble wrap around it. “I mean, we spent every summer here since the first one after you moved to London. How could neither of us know? It was like the whole village was keeping it a secret.”

“I don't know,” Molly said with a slight shrug. “I tried to ask John about him yesterday but he said the past was the past and we needed to concentrate on the future. I think even though I assured all of them that we weren't selling the place they think he has an ulterior motive. I think John will come around before Greg, though. John and Sherlock were talking this morning and it seemed to be going well. I don't think it was all about the inn, either.”

“That's good.” She looked at the list and her eyes widened. “Where are the cookbooks?”

“They're on the bookshelf over here,” Molly said. “Why?”

“Marguerite left them to me,” she said quietly. “I remember when I was a girl we used to cook from recipes in them when you were busy helping out downstairs. If it wasn't for her I wouldn't have been as interested in cooking as I became.”

“She would have loved to have eaten in the restaurant you started,” Molly said with a sad smile. “I mean, it folded after a year, but the food was great.”

“Yeah,” Sally said with a sigh. “Hopefully I can make the inn have a five star rating, at least when it comes to the food. I can't believe I'm actually going to be the one in charge of the kitchen and Sherlock's going to allow it. What did you have to do to convince him to give me a shot? We didn't exactly get along the last time we were thrown together.”

“All I had to do was say your name. He remembered you,” Molly said. “Not to change the subject, but once my furniture gets here I'll just give you the whole bookshelf, and probably all the furniture in this room aside from the table. I like my sitting room furniture better.”

“We used to spend a lot of time on this sofa,” Sally said with a smile. “I'm surprised you don't want to keep it.”

“I like my furniture more, I suppose. I'm keeping her bedroom set, other than the bed, and all the kitchen stuff.” She paused. “You _did_ bring all your good cooking stuff, didn't you?”

Sally nodded. “Like hell I was going to let Richard keep it,” she said with a grin. “He doesn't have a single pot, pan or good knife in his flat now. And I took all the other good stuff, too, like the food processor and the stand mixer He tried to get me to leave him something and I told him to piss off. Some of it is in the two boxes I brought with me. I figured if I'm going to be in charge of a kitchen I'd want some equipment I'm used to using until we can get more.”

“I thought for sure you'd want to keep it in your place,” she said.

Sally shook her head. “I'd rather use my stuff for work than personal cooking. I may move some of the kitchen supplies into my flat so I can get used to them, but if I'm going to be cooking for a lot of people I want reliable equipment. As it stands, I'm going to start cooking down there tonight so I can get used to all the appliances, see how they all work and what I need to figure out when I'm using them. Mark said he'd walk me through the place tomorrow. He seems to be happy with not working here anymore.”

“He's been the head cook for thirty years,” Molly said with a smile. “He deserves a break.”

“Will I have an assistant?” she asked.

“Not at the moment. But I'll pitch in when I can. We'll see about hiring someone before we reopen.”

“How much longer are we going to be closed?” Sally asked.

“Probably another week, but I'm not sure. Sherlock wants to spend some time familiarizing himself with what my Nana's plans were for this place. And I need to take care of all this.” She pointed to the list Sally was holding, which was four pages long. “And that's not counting the fact I need to learn more about my new financial situation. I mean, I have a lot of money now. I need to know how much, and all the investments she had, and all of that. There's a lot to do around here before we can reopen.”

“Understandable,” she replied with a nod. “And this is a good thing for me. Gives me time to get my bearings in the kitchen and revamp the menu. Mike said he'd leave me the menu and tell me what were the most popular items, but he's agreed it's time to update and change the menu. And then I need to talk to the local food suppliers and see what I can get my hands on locally and what I'll have to order from farther afield.”

“This is going to be so much work,” Molly said.

“Yeah, but I think we're going to find our callings here,” Sally said with a grin. “I can feel it. This is a good fresh start.”

“I hope so,” Molly said as she smiled back. “Let's get back to the list, shall we? I think we only got through two pages so far.”

“Try one and a quarter,” Sally said with a chuckle. Then she began reading off more names and items, and Molly began finding the items and packing them up.

Soon there were more boxes in the room than there were belongings. Molly knew her grandmother had left her the most important things, aside from the inn, but to see all her belongings boxed up to go to others gave Molly a heavy heart. Sally had gone downstairs to make some food for the staff and get used to the kitchen, so she was in the apartment by herself, trying to figure out how she was going to send everything off. The knock on her door surprised her, and she went to go answer it. Sherlock was standing on the other side. “Are you busy?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. I was just trying to figure out how to get all this to the post to send it off. I'm going to have people in the village just come pick up the things left to them, but there's at least thirty parcels I need to send out.”

“I can help you in the morning, before your meeting with the lawyer,” he said.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked, moving out of the way slightly.

“Is there any space to sit?” he asked when he walked in.

She chuckled. “The stools in the kitchen. I'd offer tea but I have boxes stacked in the kitchen, too.”

“You know, we could have this conversation at my apartment,” he said.

“All right,” she said with a nod. “Is it a bad conversation?”

“No. I have a better idea of the plans she had, that's all. I figured tomorrow the lawyer's going to have your head swimming with numbers so I would tell you now.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. The two of them left her new home and she locked up behind her. Then they moved down the hall to Sherlock's apartment. He unlocked the door and let them in. She'd helped him unpack the day before and she had to admit, the man had taste. It was comfortable but good quality, and she'd been fascinated by the art he'd hung on the walls. He had said it was another investment, though more pleasing to the eye. He made his way to his kitchen and plugged in his kettle. “So what did my Nana want to do?” she asked.

“Well, I was right in that she wanted to buy the other building,” he said. “She wanted to have it converted into ten larger rooms than the ones here. So we would have ten rooms that are larger in one building and then fifteen smaller rooms in this building. And she wanted to make the front entrance, kitchen and dining areas take up the entire first floor here.”

“Can we afford to close long enough to do that?” she asked, sitting on his sofa. It looked like it might be uncomfortable but appearances were deceiving. It was nearly as comfortable as her own sofa. “I mean, it's the off season right now, but how long would it take to complete the changes here?”

“Six months,” he said. “Converting the other building will be faster, and if we do it now we should be ready to have both buildings open by the time our busy season starts in the spring. I know of reliable contractors in the area who would be willing to do it quickly but do it right the first time.”

“How is the kitchen situation going to work?” she asked, leaning back into his sofa.

“She wanted the new kitchen where the bedrooms are now, so we can have that worked on and still have our kitchen and dining room open. But most boarding guests aren't going to put up with construction. We would need to remain closed as an actual inn for the entire duration until the other building is converted. The only thing we would have open would be the kitchen and dining area, and most likely only for the evenings.”

Molly sighed. “Is it worth it? I mean, everyone who lives here needs to work.”

“I think it would be a sound financial decision,” Sherlock said with a nod. “If we have the new rooms done concurrently with the changes here in this building we would be able to open the new wing first and get more guests. From the plans she had started to make the conversion would only take three months, four at most. Ten rooms available are better than none, I think.”

“But what about wages?” she asked.

“Part of the money she got from selling her assets was to be used to support the staff during construction. And it's not as though they won't be working; everyone will be showing you how to run this place. Lestrade and Watson can take an extended vacation for a bit, and your friend Sally as well, if she'd like. Then they'll come back and we can get start getting you trained. As it stands, it's going to take me at least a month to get you up to speed on all the financial aspects of running this inn since you have no business experience whatsoever.”

Molly chewed her bottom lip slightly. Then she nodded. “All right. Let's do it. Do you know who we need to talk to?”

He nodded. “The one surprise I saw when I went through the papers in the office was that she had already bought the building next door, so we don't need to do anything about that. I suppose the next step is to inform the staff and give them their wages.”

“What about Mrs. Hudson? You said she just moved to the village. Isn't she going to resent not having work to do?”

“Actually, she said she would enjoy a bit of a vacation. She's been working since she was very young, almost non-stop. And she wants to familiarize herself with the village and the people here, really make herself at home.” He grinned at her a bit. “And I already mentioned it as a possibility to Watson this morning. He seemed to be enthusiastic for the idea. He's going through and giving me a list of improvements we can have made to this building while they're doing the construction on the first floor. It will be immensely helpful.”

“Now it's just a matter of talking to Greg and Sally. Though I don't think Sally will mind, especially if a new kitchen means new appliances and equipment.”

“Which we would definitely include in the new kitchen,” Sherlock said with a nod. “I would be content letting her order what she wanted, within reason. I know she knows what a proper kitchen needs more than I do.” The kettle began to whistle and he set about making the tea. “I think in six months we can reopen and be a much better inn. We all just need to have patience.”

“Well, I hope we all do.” She watched as he worked on the tea. “Do you really think I'll be able to run this place on my own, Sherlock?”

“I think with proper training and support you will,” he said. “I'll make sure you have it before I leave. And if things start to go wrong you can always call me and I'll help set them back to rights.” He paused in what he was doing and looked up at her. “I will not allow you to lose this place, Molly. I promise.”

“All right,” she said with a nod. He finished with the tea and brought the tray over to her. He set it down on the table in front of the sofa and prepared her tea for her. She then picked up the saucer and cup and took a sip. “When are you going to start training me?”

“The day after tomorrow. I believe your grandmother's lawyer is going to have a lot to go over with you. If you need any clarification on the businesses you are now a part owner of I can do that in the evening. I believe I own shares in all the businesses as well.”

“I still can't get over that,” she said as he sat down next to her. He prepared his own tea and then picked up his cup. “I mean, I went from owning no business to owning half of one and part of ten others.”

“Marguerite had good financial advisers. I suggest you keep them and let them handle that aspect of your life. And if you would like my help with the other businesses I will offer my assistance, even after I relinquish my half of the inn.”

“How do you know you'll want to keep helping me?” she asked, taking a sip of her tea. “I mean, you could hate the very sight of me by the time this is all over.”

“I do not think I could hate you,” he said quietly. “I'll admit I don't know you well, but I sincerely doubt anyone could hate you.”

“I suppose,” she said with a shy smile. “Anyway. How do you enjoy being here?”

“It's smaller than my flat in London, but it's nice. This is where I stayed when I lived here before,” he said with a small smile. “That is why I was glad no one else was here. In a way, it's like coming home, even if nothing looks the same.”

“This place really is home for the both of us, isn't it?” she mused before sipping more of her tea.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said with a nod. “I mean, my parents no longer reside in my childhood home, and my flat doesn't really feel much like a home. It's more like a place to rest my head. I will be sad to give this place up when I no longer have a reason to be here.” He drank some of his tea. “But that's the way it goes, I suppose. I stay until I am no longer needed, and then I leave.”

“Sort of like Nanny McPhee,” Molly said with a smile. “When you are needed but not wanted you stay, but when you are wanted but not needed you go.”

“Well, usually I'm wanted, but not by everyone,” he said after thinking a moment. “And when I'm not needed I'm still not always wanted. But yes, that's generally the way it works. I had never thought about it quite that way before.”

“It must be a hard life sometimes. I mean, not having a job where you can make friends.”

“I've been okay in my life without many friends,” he said. “Though for a very long time I thought it was better to be alone.”

“It's never better to be alone. I've been alone for a long time. It's not a good lifestyle,” she said, vehemently shaking her head. “If you don't have friends you don't have an anchor. You just...drift from place to place. Sally was my only friend for a very long time, and she's probably going to be for a long time to come.”

“I have no very close friends,” he admitted.

“I'm hoping we can become good friends while you're here,” she said, giving him a smile.

“I hope we can as well,” he said, giving her a grin back. It really did look quite nice on his face, she decided.

She widened her smile, even though the thought of him leaving was still something that caused her dread. Part of it was that she didn't want to run this place on her own, even if she had Greg's help. But another part of it was that she really liked Sherlock. The more she got to know him the more he fascinated her. She was fairly sure she was already starting to nurse a crush on him, but she would try and stamp it down because even if she wanted him to stay he probably wouldn't. He had a whole life that didn't revolve around the inn, and even if she became a friend that wouldn't mean he'd want to chuck it all away to be there with her. That thought was mildly depressing. But she kept her smile bright as she spoke. “Sally said she was going to make dinner for all of us. I think everyone might enjoy that.”

“I know I would. Do you have any idea what she's going to make?” he asked.

“Absolutely no clue. But I'm fairly sure it will be spectacular.” She watched him drink some more of his tea. “Eventually one of us needs to talk to Greg.”

“I'll do it,” he said. “He's going to have to get used to taking orders from me eventually. At least it will only be temporary.”

“Why doesn't he like you?” she asked quietly.

“I don't know if he doesn't like me, but I know he resents the fact that Marguerite listened to my ideas as opposed to his all those years ago. I suppose he thinks of me as her favorite, as the person she would rather have had run this place over him, even if that isn't the case. I'm here to train you and so, for a time, I will be making decisions about the best interests of this inn. But only with your input and approval.”

“That's good to know,” she said with a nod. She finished her tea and began to make herself another cup. “I just hope he understands it. He's part of my family, in a way. I don't want to alienate him.”

“Nor do I. He did a very good job running this place after Marguerite had her stroke. He made some changes to my business plan, but they were sound changes that accounted for the times changing and the needs being different. I probably should have updated them for Marguerite ages ago but he did some good work on it. I suppose that is the plus side of being in the thick of the business. You can tell what needs to be changed better than an outside consultant.”

“How long do you usually spend at a business?” she asked as she finished fixing her tea.

“It depends on how dire the situation is. I'm not there for just a week like all those people who swoop in to save businesses in American television shows. I spend months at a business. I get my hands dirty and do every job they have so I can learn how to do it more effectively. The experts I bring in with me do the same as they help me know what needs to be done for the place to succeed. Sometimes it's three months, but usually no more than six. Within three months I can see if the owners are taking my advice and suggestions to heart, if they truly want to turn their business around or if they just want a patch. Most owners genuinely want to save their businesses. But the ones who want just the patch ultimately lose them in the end.”

“I think you do very well at your job because you care,” she said with a smile. “You want to see them succeed on their own two feet.”

“I suppose I do,” he mused. “I didn't really think about it that way before. Thank you for the insight.”

“You're welcome,” she said, her smile getting brighter.

He was quiet for a moment, looking at his tea. “After we eat the food that Sally makes, would you like to take a walk with me?” he asked without looking up from his tea.

“Sure,” she said. “I would love to.”

“Really?” he asked, lifting his head up.

She nodded. “We've been having some fascinating conversations. I like talking to you.”

“All right. Good. So we can walk through the village after dinner,” he said, relaxing slightly. “There's something I would like to show you, something I discovered here when I was a teenager. If it is still there, at any rate.”

“I'd enjoy that,” she said with a wide smile. “And maybe later I can show you some of my favorite places to go to when I was a child, or at least the places that are still around.”

“I would like that very much,” he said with a nod. “How long do you think it will take Sally to cook for us?”

“It all depends on what she's making. Most of the food got used up for everyone who was at the funeral, but we do have some meat and fresh vegetables left. If we're lucky she'll make a chicken dish. That's my favorite type of food from her.”

“Just out of curiosity, how did you meet?” he asked, picking up his cup of tea.

“We were neighbors. Sally's home life was better than mine, but not by much. Her parents cared, but they cared about themselves more. My mother didn't really care about me at all, I think, once my father was gone. So Sally and I bonded and spent every minute we could together. We've been inseparable ever since.” She smiled. “One day you should ask her to tell you stories about our younger days. She knows which ones are entertaining but not too embarrassing.”

“You could always tell me yourself,” he said.

“There's some stories she tells much better,” Molly said with a chuckle. “But I can tell you quite a few of them as well.”

“Maybe after dinner, when we take our walk,” he said.

“I can start then. But only if you tell me stories of your childhood.” She smiled at him. “I want to get to know you better.”

“Most people don't want to get to know me,” Sherlock said quietly.

“I am not most people,” she replied. “And if we're going to work together we should at least be friendly. Besides, didn't you just agree that you wanted to be friends with me?” He nodded. “Then I should get to know you as well as you get to know me. We don't have to talk about everything that's happened to you, but it would be nice to get some insight on how you turned into the man you are now.”

“And what type of man do you think I am?” he asked, looking at her intently.

“A good one,” she said, looking him directly in the eye. “What type of man do you think you are?”

“A very complicated one,” he said.

“You don't seem that complicated to me,” she said softly.

“But you don't know me well.”

“I'm a good judge of character, I think,” she said with a smile. “Why don't we finish our tea and see how Sally's doing? If you go down there while she's gotten a chance to use the kitchen equipment you can talk about the improvements she wants to make. It would probably also help to let her tell you how it would be best to have the new kitchen laid out.”

“I suppose we should,” he said with a nod. They finished their tea, chatting about things, and then headed down to the first floor. John was in the kitchen with Sally, pitching in. They were both laughing about something when Molly and Sherlock joined them. Soon Sally roped the two of them into helping her cook their evening meal, and the four of them chatted easily. Sally said Greg had decided to go into the village to eat so it would just be the four of them. Molly watched Sherlock relax a bit as he and John and Sally began to talk more, and it made her glad.

He told them about the plans for the inn that Marguerite had started, and both of them looked as though they approved of them. John was talking about how it might be nice to take a vacation when Greg let himself into the dining room. He appeared to be in a pensive mood. Molly took a good look at him and then waved him over. “Did you already eat?” she asked.

Greg shook his head. “There's someone in the village asking questions about this place. A man named Jim something or other. The others didn't tell him I worked here, so I listened to what he was asking and came back when he left.”

“Sit down and join us,” Sally said. “I think we all want to hear about this.”

“I certainly do,” Sherlock said, his face slightly grim. “Was his last name Moriarty?”

Greg nodded as he sat down. Sally left to go get another plate and set of utensils for him. “Yeah, that was it. He kept asking a lot of questions about you, Sherlock.”

“He would,” Sherlock replied with a sigh. “I believe he wants to get his hands on this property, purely out of spite.”

“Well, we know he's here and he's asking questions,” John said. “We can be on our guard.”

“Should we scrap the plans?” Moll asked worriedly.

“Marguerite's expansion plans?” Greg asked, and both Sherlock and Molly nodded. “You two are going forward with them?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. “It's a sound investment.”

“So you're really not going to sell,” Greg said thoughtfully.

“No. This place is more Molly's inheritance than mine. I will do everything in my power to make sure it is around for years to come,” Sherlock said. “I made a promise to Marguerite and I intend to see it through.”

“Huh,” Greg said as Sally came back with his plate and silverware. She set it down in front of him and then served up some of the dinner. He looked at it and then looked up at her with a grin. “Well, he was asking how long you'd been here, what your history was with the place. It was the way that he was asking the questions that got the locals to be wary of answering his questions. It's obvious he's got a vendetta against you, and the others weren't about to provide him any ammunition to use against you.”

“Good,” Sherlock said with a nod. “I suppose I'll have to see him in person soon enough. Get him to back off as best I can.”

“There was a woman with him. She was flirting with some of the younger men, but they don't know you and your history here,” Greg said as he took a bite of his food. He chewed it thoughtfully, then turned to Sally. “This is actually quite good.”

“Thank you,” Sally said with a grin as she sat down to her own food.

“The woman would be Irene Adler,” Sherlock said. “She's just as much trouble as Moriarty.” Sherlock leaned back in his seat slightly. “I suppose I'll have to start taking care of it in the morning. For now, let's all stick together and present a united front. Nothing is wrong with this place, even if it won't be reopening for some time. There is no intention of us selling, to them or anyone else. We'll expand and then in six months we'll reopen fully and he can just go try and ruin one of my other businesses.” He smiled a grim smile. “And I doubt he'll have good luck with that, either.”

Greg chuckled slightly. “Your stubborn streak is showing, Sherlock.”

“It never really went away,” he said, though he kept a faint smile on his face.

“I think I was wrong about you,” Greg said slowly. “I apologize.”

“No need to apologize,” Sherlock said with a slight shrug. “We should focus on the present and the future and not let the past bother us.”

“I could go for that,” Greg said with a nod.

“Me too,” John said.

“Before you do, I just have one question for you two,” Molly said, looking from John to Greg. “Why did neither of you ever tell me Sherlock lived here when I was younger? I mean, was it some big secret?”

“It was more that we didn't want him around,” John said. “He made us look bad. He was better at most aspects of running this place then we were.”

“I wasn't better at everything,” Sherlock said.

“Just about,” Greg said with a grin. “And you were insufferable about it, too. After the first nine months we hoped you wouldn't come back.”

“I was a teenager. It was to be expected,” Sherlock said.

“Well, when you were gone we'd breathe a sigh of relief because that meant Molly was here and we were free of you for a bit,” John said with a slight laugh. “But to answer your question, Molly, Marguerite wasn't saying anything about it so we didn't feel it was our place to make mention of Sherlock. If she'd wanted you to know earlier we all assumed she'd tell you herself.”

“I wonder why she didn't?” Molly asked thoughtfully.

“I suppose we'll never know now,” Greg said before eating some more of his food. “This is really good food. Better than the dinner I was planning on having. You're an excellent cook, Sally.”

“Thank you,” she said, blushing slightly. “But they all helped.”

“I made the rolls,” Molly said proudly.

Greg picked up a roll and cut it open, spreading a bit of butter on it. He took a bite and then grinned at her. “It's very good.”

“Baking is about the only thing she can do better than me in the kitchen,” Sally said. “I mean, I can bake, but it isn't my strong suit. I don't have the patience for it. But she does.”

“It soothes me,” Molly said with a grin. “Don't be surprised if you find plates full of baked goods outside your doors when I get overwhelmed.”

“It's a good thing I have a sweet tooth,” John said with a chuckle.

“Me too,” Greg said with a grin. “What about you, Sherlock?”

“I don't eat a lot of sweets, but I'd make an exception for something from you,” Sherlock said to Molly. “Just give more of them to the others.”

“I can do that,” she replied, smiling at him. “Maybe I'll make biscuits tomorrow. Does anyone have anything they'd prefer?”

“Do you have all the ingredients for your triple chocolate chip ones?” Sally asked hopefully.

“No, but I'm sure I can pick them up in the village,” she said. “I'll make a batch up tomorrow.” She went back to her food, and after a few minutes the topic of conversation turned to other things. Soon they had all eaten to their fill, and Greg and John offered to help Sally clean up, leaving Sherlock and Molly alone. “Do you want to go take that walk now?” she asked, standing up after they had taken their plates and utensils into the kitchen.

Sherlock nodded. “I don't think we'll need coats. It hasn't been very cold.”

“All right,” she said. The two of them left the dining room and made their way outside the inn. The evening was balmy, with just a slight hint of a breeze. Soon it would not be all that warm, so Molly was going to enjoy it while it lasted. They chatted as they walked, both of them pointing out things they had enjoyed when they were younger that were still around, and reminiscing on things that weren't. Finally they went out to the edge of the village to a large tree and Sherlock stopped, walking around it. “Is this what you wanted to show me?” she asked with a smile.

“I think so,” he said. “I'm just checking to see if this was the right tree.”

“Is it?”

He nodded. “It is.” He motioned for her to come closer and then he pulled a small pocket torch out of his pocket. “I put this in my pocket before we left my place,” he said. He shone the light on the tree as he looked for something, and then he stopped. “This is what I wanted to show you.”

She leaned in and looked. It was a crudely drawn heart carved into the tree, with some initials. “J.H. loves V. L.,” she said.

“My father carved that into this tree when he met my mother,” Sherlock said. “He'd come here for his gap year and she was working at the inn for Marguerite as a waitress in the dining room. It was love at first sight as far as he was concerned. They spent the whole summer together, and then the following year she moved to London to be near him when he was in university. They've been together ever since.”

“That's such a sweet story,” Molly said with a smile. “One day I'd like to have love like that.” She turned to look at him. “How did you find out about this place?”

“My father would come check up on me often the first year I was here. One time he brought my mother because she missed me. We took a walk and she showed this to me and told me the whole story. By the time they left a week later I realized that this place was very special to them. It became very special to me, too. I used to climb up in the tree when I wasn't working to read books and be by myself, to let the whirring thoughts slow. It's still my favorite place in the village.”

“My childhood home isn't that far from here, actually,” she said, pointing down the path. “Just down that way. My father liked the village but he liked living a bit away from it. I wonder if anyone lives there.”

“We could find out,” Sherlock said. “And you could tell me more about your childhood here.”

“Maybe later,” she said as the wind picked up a bit. “It's getting a tad chilly.”

“I suppose it is,” he said with a nod.

“But I can tell you about my childhood,” she said brightly. “It's a bit of a walk back to the inn from here. What do you want to know about?”

“Anything you're willing to tell me,” he said, and in the dim evening light she could see he had a smile on his face. She smiled back as they turned around to head back to the inn before she began to tell him about her earliest memories of her childhood. By the time they got back the wind had picked up a bit and they got inside, glad for the warmth. They made their way up to the third floor, still chatting, and then when they got to the top he looked at her. “You're more than welcome to finish our conversation at my home,” he said.

She shook her head. “My meeting with the lawyer is very early in the morning. I should probably get some sleep soon.” She hesitated for a moment, then leaned over and softly kissed his cheek. “Good night, Sherlock.”

He nodded towards her. “Good night, Molly.” he turned, and she watched him for a moment. He put his fingers where she had kissed his cheek for a few seconds as he made his way to his apartment door. She worried it was too forward, but then he turned and she saw he was smiling slightly. Her own smile widened as she turned and made her way down the opposite end of the hall to her own home. She let herself in and then made her way to her bedroom to change and get some rest. It had been a busy day, but it had been a good one, and she hoped that that boded well for the rest of her time here.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock had been right. Her head was swimming by the time the lawyer was done talking to her. She had gone back to her apartment to bake, now that the boxes were out of her kitchen, and she found it was soothing. Soon enough she had dozens of biscuits made, and she was placing them on plates to leave outside doors. She was nibbling on one of them when she heard footsteps pounding up the stairs, and soon they came right up to the door. “Mols!” Sally said. “Our stuff is here.”

“Oh, good,” she said to herself before she made her way to the door. She opened it and saw Sally looking a bit winded. “Why did you run up here?”

“They're leaving it outside and it looks like it's about to rain,” she said, leaning over and putting her hands on her thighs.

“Damn,” Molly said. “Do you think we can at least convince them to bring them inside to the foyer? Even if it's just the furniture.”

“You might want to try. I almost started yelling.”

“I'll go do my best,” she said, moving past Sally, who followed after a moment. She made her way down and outside, and after a few moments of flirtation and the promise of a nice home cooked meal and a bit of a tip they started lugging both the furniture and the boxes into the foyer. Sally went into the kitchen to whip something up for the four men who were moving all the furniture. She could ask Greg, John and Sherlock to help get it up the stairs if she had to, but she just wanted it inside before the rain began to fall. Just as the last box was brought in the first few rain drops hit the street, growing steadier the more time passed.

“What's all this?” Greg asked forty-five minutes later after the women had fed and paid the people who transported their stuff.

“Everything we own that's worth keeping,” Sally said, looking at the stacks of boxes and pieces of furniture. “And now we have to lug it up three flights of stairs.”

“And get things out of my Nana's apartment to move my furniture in,” Molly said with a sigh.

“We'll all pitch in,” Greg said with a nod. “I'll go find John and Sherlock and we'll get this all sorted out. Don't worry about it.”

“Thank you,” they chorused gratefully. He grinned at him and then made his way up to the second floor.

Molly sat down on her sofa and after a moment Sally sat next to her. “I didn't realize I had so much stuff,” Molly said.

“And this wasn't even all of it,” Sally said with a wry grin. “This is just all the stuff I knew was important. You have to go back to London and take care of the rest eventually.”

Molly groaned. “I am not looking forward to that.”

“Hey, it won't be so bad. I mean, you can always just give it away to friends of ours,” Sally said, nudging Molly with her shoulder. “But you do need to get rid of your place, break your lease.”

“I suppose.” She was quiet for a moment. “It will all seem so permanent if I do that.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” Sally asked.

“No, not that. I mean, it's the end of my old life. No more getting up and going to the hospital every day, not that I'd done that in six months. No more being in the center of so much life. No more excitement of the big city.”

“And no more bosses breathing down your neck, and no more heavy pollution and loud noises in the air and no more shitty ex-boyfriends who get other women pregnant,” Sally said with a grin. Molly looked at her and grinned as well. “It's going to be good, giving it all up. Yes, we have to help move everything around, but this place is your home, and Greg and John's. It can be mine, too. And maybe even Sherlock's.”

“I doubt it,” Molly said glumly.

“But you'd like it to be, wouldn't you?” Sally asked quietly.

“Is it obvious I fancy him?” she asked, a small frown on her face.

“Just to me, but I'm your best mate. I'm fairly sure he and the other men will be completely oblivious.” She leaned back. “I just don't want you to get hurt. If you think he can't make this place his home, don't start anything with him. I know you. You'll get attached, and then when he leaves you'll be a brokenhearted mess.”

“I suppose,” Molly said. She shut her eyes. “He's just...I like him, I do. I like talking to him. I like learning about him. The whole time I was helping him set up his home here we were talking. He's a fascinating man. And then yesterday when we went for the walk, he showed me something that was pretty special. I liked that.”

“Just promise me you won't let yourself get hurt, all right?” Sally said.

“I promise,” Molly said with a slight nod. She remained with her eyes closed until she heard the front door open and slam closed. She started slightly and turned to look, seeing Sherlock stalk in, soaking wet. “What on earth were you doing out there?” Molly asked, standing up.

“Having a confrontation with Jim Moriarty,” he said sourly. “Well, it wasn't an outright fight, but he very clearly made it known he wants his hands on this inn. I think it might have come to blows if Irene hadn't pulled him away. As it stands, he's on his way out of the village. A tactical retreat, so to speak.”

“You're soaked,” Sally said with a frown. She looked at the boxes, then pulled the tape off one of them. “Molly, I think this one has your towels in it.”

Molly came over and opened it up. She dug through it for a moment and then pulled out a large towel. She handed it to Sherlock. “Dry off with this.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking the towel. He began to dry himself off. “Irene is still here. I think he thinks she can use her feminine wiles on me again. If he does, he's an idiot. I won't fall for her act twice. And if it doesn't work on me there's others he might try and get her to entice.” He looked around. “Are these your things?”

Molly nodded. “Yeah.”

“You have a lot of furniture,” he said. “And a lot of boxes.”

“Most of it is going into my place, and most of my Nana's things are going into Sally's place.”

Sherlock nodded as the sound of two pairs of feet coming down the stairs was heard. “Let me change and I'll come back down to help move it all. Or would you rather move things out of your grandmother's home first?”

“I think we should move my grandmother's things out first,” Molly said after a moment's thought. “Since most of it is going into Sally's place that will give us room to move my stuff into my place. I think it would mean less moving for us.” Greg and John joined them a moment later. “I mean, that would make more sense.”

Sherlock nodded. “Let me change out of these wet clothes and then I'll join all of you.”

“All right,” Molly said with a nod. Sherlock headed towards the stairs and she turned to Sally. “Let's get the things down here that we're putting into your home up there first, furniture wise. It's mostly the bedroom set stuff.”

“So the vanity and the dresser and the nightstands and the bed?” John asked.

“Not the bed. The bed is going in my place. There's other furniture I'm giving her that's down here, but most of her stuff will be my Nana's old things until she can replace it with stuff she likes better.”

“I don't know,” Sally said with a grin. “Marguerite had good taste. It's all good quality furniture that's well worth keeping. I may change fabrics and repaint, but I can do that later. I just want a bed of my own more than anything else.”

“Well, we'll get it all sorted and start moving everything around,” John said. “We can get started with this stuff and then move the rest from Molly's place. That's the plan, right?” Molly nodded. “The sooner we get started the sooner we can finish.”

Molly grinned. “Then let's get started.” The four of them began to start lifting up the lighter pieces of furniture, and ten minutes later Sherlock joined them. He'd changed into the more casual type of clothing he had worn when Molly helped him move into his own home here. Once he got there the men began moving the larger pieces of furniture for Sally's apartment up the stairs. Finally they got it all hauled up they began to move furniture out of Molly's new home after she cleared off shelves and emptied out drawers. Then they went back downstairs and began moving Molly's furniture up and putting it in her home. It took them four hours, and by the time they were done they were all utterly exhausted. Molly had set the plate of biscuits she had made on the table and the other four of them were each in a chair, eating them. “So now it's just the boxes, but Sally and I can do that ourselves,” Molly said.

“Five of those boxes are heading straight into the kitchen,” Sally said before taking a bite of her food. “And they were the heaviest ones, I think. I can just push those along the floor.”

“We can bring the boxes up, too,” Greg said. “Just tell us whose is whose.”

“You all have done so much heavy lifting already,” Molly said, finishing the tea she was making and bringing the tray to the table. “Really, we can handle the rest.”

“It's all right,” Sherlock said. “There's only thirty or so boxes left. We can do it.” He took the cup offered to him and then got the milk, pouring it into his cup. “If Sally wouldn't mind cooking for us again tonight I know that would help immensely.”

“Sure,” Sally said with a nod. “I can whip something up. Maybe shepherd's pie. I think I have all the ingredients for that, and considering how cold and miserable it is outside that would warm us all up.”

“That sounds great,” John said with a grin, beginning to set up his own tea when Sherlock was done with the milk. “Mark was a good cook, but I get the feeling you're better.”

“I trained at some of the best restaurants in London,” Sally said with a smile after finishing her snack. “Sent a year or two at each one. I was at the one Sherlock saved for three years, before I decided to open up my own place.”

“Why did it close?” Greg asked.

“I'm a great cook but apparently I don't have a head for business,” Sally said with a shrug. “And the people I trusted to run things were not all that trustworthy. I decided maybe it might be best if I stopped working for a bit when the restaurant folded, so for the last three months I've been trying to figure out what to do with my life. That's part of the reason I'd moved in with my boyfriend, since I couldn't afford the rent on my flat.” She picked up another biscuit. “That was a huge mistake.”

“Well, you're better off without him,” Molly said, moving to the sofa to sit down. She was not having tea or biscuits at the moment. “And I'm glad you're here.”

“Thanks,” Sally said with a smile. The five of them relaxed for a few more minutes, chatting easily. Then Sally stood up. “If we want to eat any time soon I should probably head downstairs. I put my name on my boxes so you can just set them inside anywhere they'll fit. I'll unpack later tonight.”

“We'll head down with you,” John said as he stood up as well, followed by Greg. He looked at Sherlock. “Coming?”

“Actually, I need to speak with Molly about earlier this afternoon,” he said.

“Just leave my boxes down there and the two of us can bring them up later,” Molly said.

“Or you two can retire to the office and we can just bring them in here and you can go through them later,” Greg said. “If you want.”

“But then you'll be doing all the work,” Molly said with a frown.

“Just make Sherlock help you unpack,” John said with a chuckle. “It isn't that big a deal to bring up the boxes.”

“If you're sure,” she said.

“We're sure,” Greg said. He, John and Sally headed towards the door. “We'll bring Sally's things up first, after we haul the kitchen stuff into the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” Molly called over before they left. She looked over at Sherlock. “So, office now?”

“If you want. My flat is a bit more comfortable, though.”

“That is true,” she said with a smile. The two of them got up and went down the hall, and he let them in. They moved over to the sofa and sat down. “So, why does he want this place so badly?” she asked when they were settled.

“Because it's special to me, I think. Lestrade was wrong in that a few of the locals talked to him about me and my history with this place. I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to make offers for the other three businesses here that I helped save as well.” He leaned back in his seat slightly. “Irene being here worries me. If they had both left I would be less concerned, but the sons of the owners I helped would probably all fall for her charms. If she can get them to convince their parents that it's good to sell out he'll make inroads here that I don't want him to make.”

“Then you should talk to them. Tell them the truth,” she said.

“I plan on starting to do that tomorrow.” He ran his hand over his face. “I don't know why he's decided to focus on me. It's like I'm some thorn in his side, or else he takes a perverse pleasure in dismantling the things I try and save. It's like he's a destructive force of nature in my life.”

She hesitated for a moment, then reached over for his hand. He looked down at their hands, then up at her. “He won't get this inn. And I won't let him get the other businesses. I'll go with you when you talk to the owners, all right? I've known most of them since I was very young. If they don't listen to you they might listen to me.”

“Thank you,” he said with a nod. He paused for a moment, then squeezed her hand lightly before moving it away. “It will help to have an ally in all this.”

“I hope so too,” she said with a smile. “So what else can we do tonight?”

“Nothing, really. Moving your things into your new home seems to be the best plan for the moment. And I find I don't want to think about the matter anymore right now. I have other things on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about them?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. It's just things I need to sort out, and it's best if I do it in my head.” He gave her a small smile. “If it wasn't raining I'd suggest we take another walk this evening.”

“I liked our walk yesterday,” she said, her own smile widening. “Maybe soon I'll show you my old home.”

“No one lives there,” he said. “I asked around in the village before I ended up running into Moriarty. It's been empty for the last few years, mostly because no one is coming to claim the property. It was sold to a family who intended to use it as a place to come for the summers but they never came. It's been maintained, from what I understand, but not very well.”

“That's quite sad,” she said quietly, frowning. “I'm not sure if I want to go back there now.”

“If you do I will be more than happy to go with you. I am curious to see it, but I will not go by myself if you don't want me to.”

“Let me think about it for a bit,” she said.

“All right.” He looked at her for a moment. “How did the meeting with the lawyer go?”

“You were right. My head was so full of facts and figures when he was done. I didn't realize there were so many assets, so many things I had to know.” She gave him a smile again. “He told me who her financial advisers were, so I'm going to call them tomorrow to continue to retain their services. I think it would be best if I just keep abreast of what's going on with the money and investments I inherited from them instead of trying to handle them on my own.”

“That's probably best,” he said with a nod. “Were there any things you had questions about?”

“A few. Could you tell me more about the businesses I'm a part owner in?”

“Of course. Do you know which ones she kept her shares in?”

She nodded. “I have a list. Let me run and go get it.” She got up and went back to her apartment, grabbed the list off her counter, then went back to him. She handed him the list as she sat down again. “This is all of them.”

He looked down the list and began to explain more about each business and how they were doing. She listened, asking questions occasionally. Forty-five minutes later he handed her back the list. “Do you understand better now?” he asked.

She gave him a grateful smile. “Yes, I do.” She shifted in her seat slightly. “And thank you for being patient with my silly questions.”

“I didn't find them silly at all, and I doubt the owners would if you asked them of them,” he said with a slight smile. “They were well thought out.”

“I suppose I should go visit the businesses sometime, introduce myself,” she said. “Are they all in London?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “Perhaps I can accompany you. It wouldn't hurt if I pay them a visit too. And the owners all know me. I can introduce you.”

“Thank you. Again,” she said with a warmer smile.

“Are you going to need to go to London any time soon?” he asked.

She nodded. “I need to take care of the last of my belongings and work on breaking my lease for my flat. If I'm going to make this my home I should probably cut my ties to my life in London.”

“There are times I wish I could do the same,” he said. “I have been many places that I like quite a bit more than London.”

“Why don't you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“The majority of my business is done in London,” he said. “It makes it easier to live there than to travel from far away, especially since I immerse myself into all the businesses I'm trying to save.”

“That makes sense,” she replied. “I'm rather glad I'm not tied down there anymore.”

“Well, this is not a bad place to be tied down to,” he said. “I have missed this village greatly while I've been gone.”

“After you leave you can always come back,” she said. “I mean, other than to just help me get out of trouble.”

“I doubt you will get into trouble,” he said with a grin.

“Don't be so sure about that,” she said with a chuckle. “I don't think it would be huge trouble, but I can see it happening.” Then she sobered up slightly. “You know, you don't have to sell me your half of the inn. This is one of your homes, too.”

“That isn't what Marguerite wanted,” he said quietly.

“But I wouldn't mind,” she said. “I mean, I'd feel better if you were still attached to this place.”

“We can talk about this more when you become more efficient at running this place,” he said after a moment's pause. “But, I suppose, it would not be a bad thing to have ties to this place, to this village. That's if you don't tire of me first.”

“I don't think I could tire of you,” she said. “You're quite fascinating.”

“I don't think I am,” he said, shaking his head.

“Well, you are,” she said. “I like getting to know you better.”

He was going to say something when he heard a knock at his door. “Yes?” he asked in the general direction of the door.

“We brought up all of Molly's boxes,” Greg said from the other side of the door. “You two weren't in the office so we figured you were in here.”

“Thank you,” Molly called over. “We'll be there soon.”

“Dinner won't be ready for a little while,” Greg said. “We'll come get you two when it's ready.”

“All right,” Sherlock said. Then he looked back at Molly. “Shall we start, then?”

“Sure,” she said, giving him a smile. The two of them stood up and made their way back to Molly's part of the upstairs housing. She opened the door and looked at all the boxes. “I guess there's more stuff in London,” she replied. “I thought for sure I'd have more boxes.”

“Well, it will just be one more thing you have to do when you go back,” he said. “Where should we start?”

“The sitting room, I suppose,” she said, moving towards the boxes. “There's no way we'll get all this done before dinner.”

“We can work after dinner,” he said. “But I'll help until it's done.”

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a smile. They got to work and had gone through a third of the boxes before Sally came up to tell them dinner was ready. They went down and joined everyone to eat and then they went back up to her apartment when they were finished. It took them another two hours to finish unpacking everything, and then they collapsed on her sofa, entirely spent. “I don't even know if I can make it to my bed tonight,” she said with a slight groan.

“A very hot shower sounds like a good idea right now,” Sherlock said, tilting his head back onto the back of the sofa.

“That does sound good,” she said with a smile. “Let me at least try and make it up to you for helping me tonight. I can get some of the tension out of your shoulders and back.”

He lifted his head up and looked at her. “Like with a massage?”

She nodded. “One of the things I did after I stopped working as a pathologist was I took some courses in different things. I was taking a class in massage therapy for a bit. Sally says I give good massages, at least.”

“What do I need to do?” he asked.

“Go into my bedroom and lie down on the bed,” she said, standing up. He did the same and they moved into her bedroom. “It would probably be best if you took off your shirt.”

He nodded and reached for the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up over his head. She found herself staring for a moment at the taut muscles in his back. Then he turned to face her. “Where should I lie down?”

“Near the edge,” she said, composing herself. “I just need to get my massage oil.” He moved to her bed, which wasn't made at the moment, and laid down on the edge of it on his stomach. Molly went to the drawer where she had put her oils in the washroom and got them, then moved back to him. “Move over a bit so I can sit down. My bed is too low for me to stand.”

He moved over towards the middle of the bed more and then she sat down on the edge. She opened up the bottle of oil and put some on her hands, then put some on his shoulder blades and back. After a moment she leaned forward and began to work on his shoulders, easing out the knots she felt in his muscles. She could feel him relax under her hands, and she smiled. “That feels very nice,” he said in a contented tone of voice.

“I'm quite good at it,” she said with a chuckle. “I do actually have a massage table, but that's in London. I may bring it up here with me.”

“If you were to offer me another massage at a later date I wouldn't say no,” he replied.

“Then I'll definitely bring my table up,” she said with a chuckle. She continued to work on his shoulders for a few more moments, then moved her hands lower. “I should probably at least offer shoulder massages to Greg and John and Sally as well.”

“That would be nice of you,” he said. “But someone should do it for you, too.”

“Oh, it's all right. A hot shower will be just fine.” She pulled away and put some more oil on her hands before going back to his back. “I mean, it would be nice, but I doubt anyone here would be able to give me one.”

“I could try,” he said, lifting his head up to look at her.

“Are you sure?” she asked, pausing in what she was doing.

“I would like to at least try. If you don't feel comfortable with stripping down slightly you can keep your shirt on, right?”

“I can, but it's not as effective,” she said with a slight frown.

“I wouldn't try anything,” he said. “I promise.”

She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “All right. You can try.”

“I'll just try and remember what it is you're doing,” he said. “I pick things up fairly quickly, I've been told.”

“That's a good thing, I think,” she said. “Now put your head back down or you'll put undue stress on your neck.”

“Fine,” he said, though she could see he was grinning as he did what he was told. She continued to work on his back for a while longer before she felt satisfied he would not be as sore. She pulled her hands away and he sat up. “You are remarkably skilled,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, blushing slightly. She stood up and so did he. “Move over there and turn around, all right? I'm going to keep my bra on, but...”

He nodded. “I understand.” He moved to the side and turned around.

She peeled her shirt off and laid down on the bed where he had been. She had thought she might be more embarrassed, but right now she was so sore that she scarcely cared. “All right, I'm ready.”

She felt him sit next to her, and after a moment she felt some of the oil on her shoulder blades. Then his hands were on her skin, and he was kneading it with just enough pressure to work the kinks out. She had to admit, he was quite skilled, she thought to herself as she let out a contented sigh. “I'll take that as a sign of encouragement?” he asked, and she could tell he was amused.

“You definitely know what you're doing,” she said in a contented tone of voice. “Are you sure you haven't done this before?”

“Not really. I can work out the kinks in my own shoulders, but not very well.”

“You are more than welcome to practice on me,” she said, shutting her eyes.

“Only if you return the favor.” He worked on her shoulders for a little while longer, then moved his hands lower. She wasn't embarrassed at all, she realized. She was comfortable with him, and that was something she hadn't expected. He stopped after a moment. “Is it all right if I undo the clasp of your bra? I don't want to get oil on it.”

“All right,” she said with a slight nod. She was still covered in the front so there was no reason to get nervous. She felt him undo it after a moment, and then he resumed his ministrations. “You really are quite good at this,” she said after a few more minutes.

“I was actually afraid I would cause you more pain,” he said. “I'm glad to know I haven't.”

“Normally I would be very embarrassed to be in this position,” she said. “But I feel comfortable with you.”

“I'm glad,” he said quietly. He moved his hands to her lower back. “I feel comfortable with you as well.”

“This bodes well for us being friends, I think,” she said with a smile.

“I suppose it does.” He was quiet for a few moments, and then he pulled his hands away from her skin. After a moment she felt him pull her bra back together and he fastened it again, and then he got off the bed. “I'll turn around while you get dressed again.”

“Thank you,” she said. She got off the bed herself and reached for her shirt, slipping it back on over her head. She moved over to him and tapped him on the shoulder to let him know she was done. “Do you feel better?”

“Much,” he said with a nod. “You?”

“I feel fantastic,” she said with a smile. She leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. “Thank you very much.”

“Molly?” he asked quietly when she pulled away.

“Yes?” she asked, stilling in her movements.

He looked at her, as though he was weighing something in his head. Then he moved closer to her. “I would very much like to kiss you right now,” he said quietly.

She looked at him, slightly wide eyed. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “Would that be all right?”

She thought about it. She knew if she let him she would get attached. She would want him to stay very much, and she knew he probably wouldn't. She was going to set herself up for heartache and heartbreak if she did. But at the same time she wanted him to kiss her very badly. Even if she regretted it later, even if it all ended badly, she wanted to say she at least let him kiss her. She took another step closer, moving more in front of him, and placed her hands on his bare chest. Then she nodded slightly. “Yes, you can kiss me,” she said softly.

He put a hand to her waist and pulled her closer before using his other hand to tip her face up slightly. She licked her lips for a moment before he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. It was a gentle kiss, nothing passionate, but she relaxed into it and slid her arms up around his neck. Only then did he increase the pressure of the kiss, and she felt something flare up inside her. He wanted her. He really wanted her. She let her tongue slip out slightly and he opened his mouth more. The kiss quickly turned more passionate, and it was all she could do to keep from melting against him. Much too soon for her taste he pulled away from her. “That was an exquisite kiss,” he said, moving his hand from her waist and running it up her back.

“That was very nice,” she said with a smile. She pulled away to look at him. “Why did you want to kiss me?”

“I'm not sure if I can explain it,” he said. “It was an urge I had.”

“Would you do it again?” she asked, looking at him intently.

“Yes,” he murmured, nodding slightly.

“Then you should,” she said quietly, leaning in again. As they kissed for the second time she knew that it might end faster than she would like, that it might not ever mean as much to him as it meant to her, but right now she found she didn't want to think about what might happen in the future. She just wanted to enjoy the moment, enjoy kissing him here and not think about all the ways things could go wrong. Right now he wanted her, and that was all that mattered.


	4. Chapter 4

Two days after the kiss Molly and Sherlock made the trip to London so she could finish taking care of her belongings and they could check out the businesses. He had surprised her by actually staying close to her and taking her out to a few places, as though they were on actual dates. She had enjoyed it immensely, and it made her feel as though maybe he actually wanted more from her than just a few kisses here and there. She stayed at his flat in his spare bedroom since all her furniture was at the inn, and there was a sort of intimacy to the arrangement that she liked, even if he never tried anything. She hoped it continued when they got back to the village.

Three days later her belongings were taken care of and she'd paid out the remainder of her lease, and she was free to leave London behind her. They made their way to the village in the morning, spending the time talking. She found she really enjoyed talking to him, almost as much as she enjoyed kissing him. There was always something new to learn about him. There wasn't any shortage of the kissing, either, and that pleased her greatly. When they got back to the village they were holding hands as they walked. She knew by the end of the night it would be gossip among everyone there, that they'd left together and come back acting like a couple, but she didn't mind. She could handle the talk.

They had dropped off their things back at the inn and were talking a walk outside to talk to someone about working on converting the other building when Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. “I had hoped she'd left by now,” he said quietly, and Molly could tell he was suppressing a groan. She didn't need to ask who; she realized she was minutes away from meeting the infamous Irene Adler. She watched as a woman walked up to them, a smile on her face. Molly suddenly felt drab and plain next to her. If this was the type of woman Sherlock usually went after she had no clue why he'd initiated this relationship with her. But all he did was tighten his grip on her hand and move closer to her. “Hello, Irene,” he said.

“Sherlock!” she said, almost purring his name. “I had wondered where you'd gone.”

“Not that it's any of your business, but I went to London to take care of a few things.” He looked at Molly for a moment. “Molly, this is Irene Adler. Irene, this is Molly Hooper.”

“Charmed,” she said, turning her smile to Molly. Irene extended her hand and Molly used her free one to shake it. “You own the other half of the inn here, right?”

“I do,” she said quietly.

“It's such a lovely place. It's a shame it's not open right now.” She turned back to Sherlock. “You know, it really must be boring here for you. No stimulation of trying to save something. I mean, it's just a small village with nothing to do.”

“I'm fairly sure you've found ways to amuse yourself,” Sherlock said in a tone of voice laced with boredom. It was obvious to Molly he was done with this conversation.

“Oh, I suppose I have,” she said with a slightly impish smile. Then she sobered slightly. “If you're smart you'll get out of here and go back home.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her. “Did Moriarty tell you to issue a threat?”

She appeared to think for a moment, and then made a decision in her mind. “No, nothing of the sort,” she said finally. “No threats. If he's going to get his hands on your inn he's going to do it without underhanded means. I made him promise.”

“And what makes you think he'll keep that promise?” Sherlock asked.

“He owes me,” she said quietly. “I liked you, Sherlock. I may have started the relationship with you to get you to sell out to him, but I genuinely liked you. You treated me well.” She looked over to Molly. “He's a decent man. Better than I deserved.”

“I know,” Molly said quietly.

“Is he trying to get the other businesses I saved here?” Sherlock asked, looking at Irene intently.

She nodded slowly. “If it makes you feel better, I'm not having any luck. Whatever it was you said to the owners they've put their feet down about their sons associating with me. I think Jim might come back and try and talk to them himself, but I doubt they'll listen. You can be very persuasive when you want to be.”

“It's one of my more positive traits,” he replied.

“Yes, I know.” She sighed. “As it so happens, he doesn't want me back in London right now. So we'll be seeing more of each other for a while yet. I don't care about the other businesses he wants, but the people here really seem to like your girlfriend. I hope he doesn't get the inn. It would make everyone here very angry.”

“Yes, and not just them,” he said. Then he paused. “Why do you continue to associate with him?”

“It's profitable,” she said with a slight shrug. “But I'm starting to think money isn't everything.”

He was quiet for a moment. “If you ever change your mind about helping him, we should talk. I may be able to make you a better offer.”

Irene was surprised. “Why on earth would you want to help _me_?”

“Because you aren't as ruthless as he is. I don't think you like what you do very much, but you're trapped. If you want to get out from under him, I can help.” He nodded to Molly, and then the two of them began to walk away. “Consider my offer,” he called behind him.

“I just might,” Irene said quietly as he and Molly got further away.

Molly stayed quiet for a few minutes as they put distance between Irene and themselves. Finally she spoke. “I didn't expect all that,” she said.

“All the other times I have seen her since our relationship ended she's been near him. This is the first time I've caught her alone,” he said with a slight shrug. “He has some sort of hold over her, and I could tell the last few times we've had interactions that she's no longer fond of what she does. She could do many more things than be his paid seductress.”

“I'm still surprised you were nice, though. I mean, if I was confronting a woman who used me I would be livid.”

“I'm a complicated man, remember?” he said quietly.

“Your words, not mine.”

He stopped again and looked at her intently. “Do you still think I'm not a complicated man after the conversation I had with her?”

She thought for a moment. “I do. I mean, I think you handled the situation better than I would have, and it was unexpected, but you’re the type of person who doesn’t like to see people trapped. It’s why you do what you do.” He appeared to relax slightly, and she gave him a smile before letting go of his hand. He looked surprised for a moment, but she stepped forward and framed his face in her hands before leaning in and kissing him. He let his hands move to her waist as he kissed her back. “I'm glad you're a good man,” she said with a smile when she pulled away, and she got a smile in return.

“The whole village is going to be talking about that kiss,” he murmured.

“I don't care,” she said as she let go of his face. “I didn't want to hide whatever this is between us anyway.”

“We’re dating,” he said in an amused tone of voice, sliding his hands around to pull her closer.

“Well, then I didn't want to hide our dating relationship,” she said with a chuckle. She put her arms around his neck. “And I really don't care if everyone talks. They were going to talk the minute they saw us walking around holding hands.”

“I see,” he said. “So you don't mind being caught up in the rumors of a love triangle? Or any other rumors involving my past relationship with her?”

“I'm not worried,” she said firmly. “I know you don't have any feelings for her, even if you are being nice to her.”

“It's good that you know that,” he said before kissing her again. They remained that way for a few moments before he pulled away from her and took her hand again. “I suppose we should go take care of our business here in the village.”

Molly nodded. “Do you know who you want to talk to?”

“Yes. The actual people doing the construction won't be from the village, but there is a retired architect in the village who I know of. He has offered to help us with designing the new rooms and supervising the conversions.”

“You have connections everywhere,” she said with an amused smile.

“Actually, he was quite enamored with your grandmother,” he said. “She told me she was going to use his services when she told me of her plans, and notes of their initial meetings were filed with the deed to the new building in her office.”

“I can't imagine her being in love with anyone other than my grandfather. Not that I got to meet him. He died shortly after my mother was born. But she seemed to love him with all her heart. I think your grandfather might be the only person I've heard she's been interested in since.”

“I said our architect was enamored with her. I do not know if the feeling was mutual,” he said with a slight smile. “But she liked him as a person. He was a very dear friend of hers, at the very least.” They walked down the street before Sherlock stopped again. This time he had a wide smile on his face. “I believe it's time for you to meet your newest employee.” He pointed to an older woman coming down the street towards them.

Mrs. Hudson came up to the two of them with a smile on her face. “Hello, Sherlock,” she said brightly.

“Hello,” he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “I'd like you to meet Molly Hooper, the other owner of the inn.”

“Hello,” Molly said with a wide smile.

“Hello, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said with just as wide a smile. She turned to Sherlock. “So I see you two get on very well.”

“We're dating,” he said.

“Good for you. You always seemed so preoccupied with things the last time we spent any real time together. I had rather thought a good woman would do you a world of good.”

Molly laughed slightly. “I hope I will,” she said.

“Well, he's a very good man. And very smart. If only William and Theresa had listened to him they'd be happier.” Then her smile faltered. “I saw that dreadful man here in the village, the one who wouldn't stop hounding all of you.”

Sherlock's smile dimmed slightly. “Yes, I know. His subordinate is still here.”

“Is he trying to get the inn?” she asked.

Sherlock nodded. “Among other businesses here. I think I've thwarted his efforts for the meantime, however. I promise that he will not get the inn. You will find that it will stay in Molly's hands for a long time.”

“And yours too, I hope?” Mrs. Hudson asked.

“We'll see.” He looked at her. “How are you enjoying yourself here?”

“I like it a lot,” she said with a smile. “It reminds me of the village I grew up in. There are some very nice people here. And I am glad I'm getting an extended vacation. I will have something to do soon, though, right?”

“Within three to four months we'll be able to open up some of the rooms. Before that, though, I would like your help in training Molly. I want her to be an expert in every aspect of running the inn before it reopens.”

“Of course, dear. Just remember that I'm not a housekeeper. William and Theresa kept forgetting that.”

Sherlock chuckled slightly. “Trust me, I will remember. Have you met the rest of the staff?”

“I met Greg and John,” she said with a smile. “They seem to be nice chaps. And I was invited to have dinner with all of you tonight. I heard your cook is excellent. It will make a nice change of pace from the other inn.”

“Yes, the food there was ghastly,” Sherlock said with a nod. “I was honestly surprised no one had gotten food poisoning before I arrived.”

“So was I,” Mrs. Hudson said with a chuckle. “I think the situation here will be much better. As long as I get to have something to do soon. I don't know if I can handle more than a few months of not working. It's always nice to have something to do. Idle hands and all that.” She turned to Molly and gave her another smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hooper.”

“Please, call me Molly,” she replied with a warm smile. “I hope one day I'll get to learn your first name.”

“Oh, he told you about my quirk, did he?” Mrs. Hudson said. “Well, I think you all might learn it.” Then she leaned in more. “I haven't even worked with any of you yet and already I like you more than my former employers. At least you seem to care about your employees. If the other inn had had to close for renovations we'd all have been turned away without a penny to tide us over.”

“I would never let that happen,” Molly said. “The other employees are like family to me. I hope one day I'll feel the same way about you.”

Mrs. Hudson turned back to Sherlock. “Keep her close. She'll be a good influence on you.”

Sherlock grinned. “Yes, Mrs. Hudson.”

“Well, I'm off to meet some new friends for bridge before dinner. You two have a pleasant day.” She smiled at them one last time and then made her way down the street some more.

Sherlock began to walk again with Molly in step beside him. “So, do you approve of her?” he asked.

“Wholeheartedly,” Molly said with a smile. “She reminds me a lot of my Nana.”

“I feel much the same way,” he said with a nod. “I think she will be a good fit.”

“I think so too.” They were quiet as they walked through the village. Molly could see people staring, and a few were pointing, but she found she didn't mind too much. They made their way to one of the residential areas and soon Sherlock was walking up to a small house. He knocked on the door and after a moment the door opened. “Mr. Thomas?” he asked.

The man smiled at him. “You must be Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes. We talked on the phone yesterday. This is Ms. Hooper,” he said, nodding towards Molly.

“You look just like Marguerite,” the man said. “And please, call me Reginald. If we're going to be working together we really should be on a first name basis.”

“Call me Molly, then,” she said with a grin.

“Very well,” Reginald said. “Will you both come in?” Sherlock nodded and he and Molly stepped into the cozy home. Reginald led them to a sofa. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please,” Molly replied.

He went into the kitchen. “Marguerite had some definite ideas for what she wanted to do with the new building. Even after she got sick I continued to work on the plans, just in case she got better. I’m glad to know both of you will be doing what she wanted.”

“It’s a good idea to expand. More rooms means more people will have places to stay when it’s a busier season here,” Sherlock said.

“Well, the structure of the building is sound,” Reginald said. “I inspected in many times as I was drawing up the designs. If you want to make the rooms just a bit smaller than she planned you can also keep some room on each floor for a large cupboard to house your sheets and other supplies you might need so you don’t have to drag them over from the other part of the inn. And there’s the possibility I can make a covered pathway between the two buildings so guests won’t have to walk in the rain if the weather is bad. I hadn’t gotten to talk to Marguerite about those things before her stroke.”

“Do you have the plans here?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “I may be retired, but every once in a while someone will convince me to put my skills to good use. I find that it stimulates my mind. I was working on another project for someone else in the village while I waited to see what developed with the inn.” He came out after a few minutes carrying a tea tray. “I had already started the tea before you got here.”

“It’s definitely getting chilly outside,” Molly said.

“Yes. Soon we’ll have to be in coats and carry around umbrellas,” Reginald said with a smile. He looked at them. “How do you take your tea?”

“Milk and sugar,” Molly said.

“The same,” Sherlock said with a nod. Reginald began to make their tea for them, and they lapsed into silence. When he was done he handed them both a cup and saucer. Then he went to a desk and pulled out a few sheets of blueprints. He moved the tea tray off the table and set the blueprints on the table. “Those look promising,” Sherlock said approvingly.

“I can go into more detail if you’d like,” Reginald said.

“That would be best,” Molly said. “I don’t quite understand what I’m seeing.”

Reginald pulled up a chair next to her and began describing the blueprints in detail. Molly was able to follow along better with his descriptions than she was looking at them. Sherlock was asking more technical questions, and between the two of them she got a sense of what her grandmother had wanted. She found herself getting excited for the remodeling, and soon enough she was talking about things she wanted to do and Reginald was taking notes in a notepad. After forty minutes the planning seemed to be over, and they were all enjoying a second cup of tea. “How soon are you planning on starting?” Reginald asked.

“As soon as possible,” Sherlock said. “I will give you the name of the contractor I plan on using and the three of us can meet all at once, go over everything and make final plans.”

“Will you be joining us?” he asked Molly.

“Probably,” she said with a nod. “I’m one of the owners. I should be involved as much as possible.”

“You had some insightful ideas,” Reginald said with a smile. “I think marguerite would have thought of much of the same things, if she’d had a chance.”

“Are you able to use any of them?” she asked.

“Yes, quite a few of your ideas can be incorporated into the new rooms. Depending on what the contractor says I should see the rooms being finished in a matter of four months. Five at the outset, but that’s only accounting for inclement weather.” Reginald looked at them. “Do you have the contract for my services?”

Sherlock shook his head. “Those are in the office at the inn. I wanted to see the blueprints before I brought the contract.”

“I can come over tomorrow. Marguerite had sound lawyers, and if they wrote up the contract I trust them.” He paused. “I will be looking it over thoroughly, of course.”

“I can bring it by for you later tonight,” Sherlock said.

“That would be splendid. Give me some time to study it.” He took a sip of his tea. “I think marguerite left the inn in good hands. I’ve done some remodeling work for Todd Gambol’s restaurant. He said you saved his business about twenty years ago, Sherlock.”

“I did.” Sherlock looked at him. “Do you know of any other businesses around here that might be help? I will not be the only one teaching Molly about the inn, and if there’s someplace that might need my services I’d like to extend them. If for no other reason than to keep a certain businessman from getting his foot in the door in this place.”

“You mean the man who was asking questions about you? Moriarty something or other?” Sherlock nodded. “He makes me uneasy. He had an unwholesome interest in you and your attachment to the inn and other businesses here.”

“He’s a thorn in my side,” Sherlock said quietly.

“Well, back to your question, there are four businesses I can think of off the top of my head. The other restaurants in the village are trying to emulate Todd’s business and while they aren’t doing badly they could do with more help. And the pub changed owners a year ago and seems to be losing customers. Also there’s the market. The selection of goods hasn’t been as good lately.” He grinned at Sherlock. “That should keep you busy for a while.”

“Yes, it should,” he said with a nod. Molly felt a slight well of hope spring up inside her that maybe this meant Sherlock might stay well past when she got the inn up and running on her own. “I’ll talk to them this evening, after I get the contract for you.”

“Excellent!” Reginald said. “It would be a shame to see the businesses go under. People here are very close. People having to leave always means someone’s heart is broken for the loss of people they hold dear.”

“Yes, it usually does,” Molly said with a smile.

Reginald glanced at his watch. “I’m sure the two of you have many more things to do tonight before you can call it a day. It’s getting late.”

Sherlock and Molly put their cups down and stood along with Reginald. Sherlock extended his hand to Reginald and they shook hands. Then Reginald extended his hand to Molly and she shook it as well before he showed them both out. Once they were to the street Sherlock took her hand in his again. The sun had begun to set and it was getting chilly. “That went well,” he said as they began to walk back to the inn.

“Yes, it did,” she said with a grin. “I think we’re in good hands.”

“I think we are, too,” he replied with a nod. “I will see about having the others do more of the training if I decide to help those other businesses. I do not want to see Moriarty come back and think he can get a foothold here.”

“I haven’t even met him and I don’t want him around,” she said. “What business did he want from you in the first place?”

“A clothing store,” he replied. “It was starting to make its name as a vintage reseller, and it was in a nice part of SoHo. I had more shares of that business than I usually do because the original owner had a blowout with his newest partner, so I ended up getting half the business. The original owner was adamant he wouldn’t sell his shares, and since he was gay Irene couldn’t use her wiles on him, so she and Moriarty turned their attentions to me. I doubt I would have fallen for the ploy, but I think he thought he was close.”

“How long ago was this?” Molly asked.

“Ten years ago, give or take,” Sherlock said after some thought. “He’s gone after many more businesses I’ve helped save since. At least twenty of them. And as I said, he was successful in taking some of them. I’ve warned off many of the owners about him, so he is not well liked in some areas of London. My opinion holds more weight, apparently.”

She was quiet for a moment. “How serious were you and Irene?” she asked quietly, trying not to blush.

“Not too serious,” he said, looking at her. If he saw her blush he didn’t act like he noticed. “We weren’t intimate, at any rate, though she did try very hard. I think I’m the only person to have rebuffed her advances in that way. Perhaps that’s why she thinks I’m decent.”

“Ah,” she said with a slight nod. That was at least one less thing to worry about. “What do you think Moriarty’s hold over her is?”

“I’m not sure, but I would like to find out,” he said quietly. “Irene is very smart. If she could get out from under him I could see her doing something similar to what I do. She can be quite passionate about business matters. We had extended conversations about the businesses I was involved in. I don’t think she ever told Moriarty I had given her advice into which ones were worth investing in, but even after we parted ways I noticed she would try and buy into businesses I had helped save that Moriarty had ignored. If she did that she could very well have enough money to strike out on her own once his hold over her is broken.”

“Maybe she was in love with him,” Molly said thoughtfully.

“It would be a very one-sided relationship, I would think,” he said. “And personally I don’t see her being in love with him. The common descriptor I hear about him is either sly as a fox or cunning as a shark, neither of which are very positive animals to be compared to.”

“I suppose not,” she replied. “I don’t know what type of animal I’d compare you to yet.”

He thought for a moment. “Please do not take this as an insult, but I can see you being as loyal as a very devoted dog would be to someone who had raised it from birth. A human form of man’s best friend, so to speak.”

She laughed. “I was kind of hoping you’d compare me to a cat, someone that was cunning but not in a bad way. But a dog isn’t so bad. I like dogs.”

“I haven’t seen your cat running around the inn,” Sherlock said with a slight smile.

“Toby won’t come out of the washroom,” she said as her smile widened. “He’s still not used to this place. I don’t think I’d let him out of my flat, though. Too much worry he’d get in the way. Eventually he’ll get used to our new home.”

“It is a very nice home,” he said with a nod.

“Yes, it is.” She turned to look at him. She wanted to ask him something about if he would stay for a long while, if he would try and really make this place his home, but she didn’t know how to ask. And even if she did, she worried it would be too much too soon. She wanted him to stay, but she didn’t want to scare him off before she even saw how serious things might become. She had already realized she was falling for him, and falling hard, and it scared her. But she had time with him right now, at any rate.

“Before we go back to the inn, is there anything you would like to do?” he asked, looking at her.

She shook her head. “Not that I can think of. Maybe stop at the bookstore and see if there is anything worth buying to read before I go to bed at night.”

“What types of books do you generally read?” he asked.

“Oh, so many different things. Mysteries and fiction and romance novels, mostly. And the classics. I love Jane Austen’s books. One of my most prized possessions is a leather bound copy of Pride And Prejudice that my Nana gave to me when I was sixteen. I never read it, mostly because I’m worried I’ll ruin it. I’ve already broken three paperback copies since I was ten.”

He grinned. “I like to read, sometimes. Not often, but usually its nonfiction. I like histories and things about science. I think if Marguerite hadn’t put me on the path I ended up on I would have tried to become a scientist. There’s something to be said to successfully running an experiment.”

“I think you run something similar to social experiments,” she said after a moment. “Maybe not in an overtly scientific way, but you approach what you do very methodically, just like a scientist.”

“I suppose I do,” he said after a moment. “It would be fitting, considering science was one of my favorite subjects in school. I think I might have enjoyed doing what you did. It could have been very interesting being a pathologist.”

“Oh, it could be interesting,” she said with a smile. “Helping to solve murders was very intriguing. That was most of what I ended up doing.”

“I don’t think I would ever leave that type of job if I started doing that,” he said with a small smile. “There would be too much of a thrill to it.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But not for me. And it got too be too many bodies and too many Detective Inspectors demanding I hurry up and autopsy their body because it was a matter of life and death. It just got to be too stressful. And then there was the incident.”

“What incident?” he asked.

She paused. Sally knew the entire story, but generally she didn’t talk about it. “There was a man who faked his death. He did a very good job of it, too. No pulse, no brain activity. Anyway, his body came into my morgue and just as I was about to do the autopsy his partner came in and pulled a gun on me. Then he gave the man a shot of something and he woke up. I was terrified that they were going to kill me, but thankfully one of the DIs involved in the case came in at that moment and rescued me. It was terrifying.”

His grip on her hand tightened. “And that’s why you left?”

“That was the major push to leave. I didn’t tell my Nana that story, because I didn’t want her to worry. But that was the final straw, really, especially when my bosses demanded I go back to work the next day. I told them to go to hell and I quit instead.”

“I am sorry that happened to you,” he said.

“I’m not. I was very unhappy with my job at that point, but I would have stayed because I wouldn’t have had the brass ones to up and quit. It was the push I needed, I suppose.” She was quiet for a moment. “Though if my grandmother had still gotten ill and left me the inn I would have given it all up in an instant. This place means more to me than any job I might have.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he said. Then he frowned. “Is it just me, or did you feel a drop of rain?”

“No, I felt it too,” she said. “There’s no way we’re going to make it back to the inn without getting drenched. We’re too far away.”

He let go of her hand and then pulled off his coat, handing it to her. She gave him a quizzical look as more rain began to fall. “Only one of us needs to get wet.”

“You’ll get sick if you get soaked again,” she said. “We can try and share it.”

“If you’re sure,” he said.

She nodded. “I am.” She moved closer to him, and he tried to drape his coat over the tops of their heads as more rain began to fall. They made their way back to the inn as quickly as they could, but by the time they arrived their shoes, socks and pants were soaked. He got the door opened as quickly as he could, and when she stepped inside she looked at him and smiled. “At least we don’t look like drowned rats,” she said with a wide grin.

He grinned back. “I still have to go out in this weather to give Reginald the contract,” he said. “But you should go upstairs and change.”

“I will,” she said with a nod. Then she moved closer to him. “Take some time to warm up and eat first, though. I can smell something coming from the kitchen. And remember, Mrs. Hudson will be with us tonight.”

“I can stay for a bit,” he said, reaching over for her when she was close enough. She looked up at him. “If we’d both walked in sopping wet I think I would have suggested sitting by a fire with you under a blanket to warm up.”

“If you get soaked through we can do that later,” she said, playing with the lapels of his suit jacket. “I have a very nice fireplace in my flat.”

“I may purposefully get soaked, then,” he said before running a hand up and down her back.

“Well, just don’t get yourself sick. I don’t think you’d be up for teaching me anything if you’re getting over a cold.”

“If you take care of me it might be worth it,” he said quietly.

She smiled brightly and leaned in, kissing him softly. He kissed her back, and it quickly became the type of kiss that made her want to curl her toes up in contentment. When she wasn’t kissing him she sometimes wondered if things might be moving too fast, but when she was near him she tried her best not to think about it too much. Soon enough she had to pull away and catch her breath. “Come on. We should go see how dinner’s going,” she said quietly.

In response he didn’t let go, instead kissing her again. She slid her arms up around his neck and they would have continued to kiss if someone hadn’t cleared their throat. She pulled away quickly, face flushed and eyes wide, and saw Sally standing there, eyebrow raised. “Enjoying yourselves?” she asked in an amused tone.

“Um, yes,” Molly said, blushing. “Is supper ready?”

“No, not even close,” Sally said with a chuckle. “I was just trying my hand at baking some bread. But I’d like some company in the kitchen. John and Greg are out right now.”

“If it’s going to be a while until the meal is ready I should probably go take the contract to Reginald and talk to the other owners,” Sherlock said, letting go of Molly. “Before the rain gets much worse.”

“Oh, all right,” Molly said with a nod. He gave her a small smile and turned to head up the stairs. She watched him go before she turned back to Sally. “So.”

“Oh, Molly,” Sally said, shaking her head. “You went and fell for him, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I really hope he doesn’t break your heart,” she said. “But if he does, I’ll make sure he pays.”

Molly went over to Sally and hugged her friend, who hugged her back after a moment. “I hope he doesn’t either,” she said quietly.

They hugged for another minute before Sally pulled away. “Come on. You know baking isn’t my strong suit. You’ll have to come check the bread for me, make sure I don’t burn the outside and leave the middle a doughy mess.” Then she grabbed Molly’s arm. “And then you can tell me all about your trip to London with him, because I’m sure you have some fascinating stories.”

“Nothing happened,” Molly said.

“Sure,” Sally said with a twinkle in her eye. “Well, keep me company regardless, all right?”

Molly nodded. “All right.” And with that the two women went into the kitchen. Molly had to admit, things could get very complicated now, but at the moment she had to trust that he wouldn’t hurt her, that he wouldn’t break her heart into a million pieces, and move on from there.


	5. Chapter 5

Irene left the village a week after Sherlock and Molly returned from London, much to everyone's relief. She had come to the inn to speak to Sherlock the day she left, and the conversation had taken nearly an hour, but if she had divulged what Moriarty's hold over her as Molly didn't know. Sherlock had not seemed very inclined to talk about the conversation, and she did not press. As it stood, Moriarty had not made his presence known in the village again, and everyone considered themselves lucky. But Molly knew that could change at any moment, and so she was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Soon enough the training really started. Sherlock was right in that it took a long time for him to show her all the financial aspects of running the inn, but he was patient with her and took his time to explain everything to make sure she understood. She was surprised he was so patient with her, in a way, because she felt she was asking the stupidest questions. It took three weeks before he let her start making some of the decisions without running them by him first. Not the major ones, but smaller ones, such as the accounts for food and supplies that they needed. She started to feel more confident in her abilities the more she did.

The construction started around the time she started making some of the decisions on her own, maybe a few days prior. Sherlock had insisted that all the renovations happened at once and so there were quite a few new people in the village who didn't feel like commuting from farther away to work on the construction. Molly had started to make sure the kitchen and dining room was open for lunches and dinners, mostly to feed the workers without them having to bring their own food, though some of the locals had heard about Sally's cooking and came by for their meals, ignoring the construction going on during the day. Sally was quite pleased by the comments to her food, and Molly knew she had made the right decision in having her come on as head cook.

The others began to train her as well. The dining room duties had been the first, as it was a matter of necessity. They didn't want to hire someone else to come in just to work in the kitchen, so when someone wasn't showing her how to do one thing or another in the inn she was handling taking orders, getting the food to customers and pitching in to help Sally in the kitchen. She wasn't doing it alone, thankfully; John had turned out to be a pretty good cook in his own right and he knew his way around a kitchen, so when he wasn't doing maintenance around the place he was Sally's assistant. Molly thought he liked this job a lot more, and there had been one particular young man from the construction crew who she talked to who was considering staying in the village after the remodeling was done. She was going to run the idea by Sherlock of having John be the assistant cook and this new man take over John's job. She was fairly sure he wouldn't have any objections.

Most days she was running herself into the ground. And she wasn't the only one; once Sherlock had gotten the others to start training her he'd begun to concentrate on the other businesses in the village that needed his help. Not that he abandoned his tasks at the inn completely; he woke up early in the morning to take care of his business at the inn, then spent long hours at one of the other businesses, working well into the night. Molly was actually worried he wasn't taking care of himself, so every once in a while she forced him to take a break, even if it was just for an hour or two to get some rest when he looked like he might drop of exhaustion. They didn't get to spend as much time together, which was something she didn't like very much, but there was so much to do and simply not enough hours in the day. But she knew he wanted to make sure that Moriarty wasn't able to get any leeway anywhere in the village, and that meant long hours for him trying to make less visible targets in the village. She just helped him however she could and savored the little time she did get to spend with him.

Today, though, she had him all to herself. It had been nearly a month and a half since they had started dating and for once no one had any designs on their time. She had the feeling everyone was giving them both a well-deserved break before they cracked under the pressure. She had woken up that morning and found a note slipped under her door that under no circumstances was she to do any work. She had gone to Sherlock's apartment and found that he too had gotten the same note. She had been quite happy with the turn of events, and they had decided to go spend the day out in the village. He had cheated slightly and checked up on the owners he was helping, and every single one of them politely but firmly told him to take the day off. So now they were sitting at one of the restaurants, enjoying lunch.

“I forgot what it felt like to work so hard,” he said, leaning back in his seat slightly. “Not that I didn't work hard before, but I've never attempted to help run five businesses at once before.”

“I'm surprised you haven't run yourself into the ground,” she said, an amused smile on her face as she sipped her drink.

“You either,” he said. “My attention has been turned away from the inn more lately, so I know you and Greg have been trying to keep everything under control. You're picking it all up much more quickly than I had expected.”

“Well, it was a matter of necessity,” she said. “The real test will be when we reopen some of the rooms. It's one thing to teach me when we have no guests. It will be quite another when I have all sorts of problems to deal with.”

“I think you'll do well enough,” he said with a grin towards her. “And I'll be here to help for some time yet. Trying to balance all of the businesses at the same time means it's going to take longer to get them back to profitability. Plus the owner of the bookstore has asked for advice on a few matters.” He picked up his drink and took a long drink. “I think I will be here for quite some time.”

“That's good,” she said, her smile becoming wider. She still had not broached how badly she wanted him to stay. It appeared she might not have to now. Still, she wasn't getting her hopes up too high. There was still the chance that he would change his mind in the future. “Did you have anything you really wanted to do today?”

He shook his head. “I just want to relax. Why, did you have any thoughts?”

She nodded. “I did something. I mean, I bought something. I want to show it to you.”

“What did you buy?” he asked, curious.

“My childhood home,” she said. “I found out who owned it and made an offer to buy it from them. I know I have the apartment at the inn, and that's probably where I'm going to live, but it broke my heart that people owned my old home and didn't use it. I thought it might be nice to have a place to escape to sometimes. Either that or I might rent it out for the summers. There's some work that needs to be done, I think, and I wanted to check it out.” She looked at him. “Do you want to come with me?”

He nodded slowly. “I would like that.” He looked at the remains of his meal. “When did you want to go?”

“Sooner rather than later. It's a bit of a walk from here.”

“Well, I'm finished,” he said. “Are you?”

She nodded. “Yes, I'm done.”

He stood up and went to go get the bill for their meal. Molly followed after a moment, and when he was done they began to make their way to the edge of the village. They walked hand in hand, staying close to each other. It had been a long time since they had been able to do this, because by the time they were finished for the day they were too exhausted to do much other than have a fortifying cup of tea and talk for an hour or so. She had missed this greatly. It took them some time to get to the tree he had showed her soon after his arrival, but by that point it had begun to rain. She cursed herself for not checking the weather before they made the trip. She had let go of his hand and tried to pull her jacket over her head, but it was a very heavy rain with great gusts of wind. By the time they got to the home she was wet, cold and dirty. 

“You tend to get caught in the rain frequently,” she said as she pulled the key out of her pocket and let them inside.

“I’m going to have to start carrying around an umbrella wherever I go,” he said as she went into the home.

“I think we're going to be stuck here for a while,” she said after he had stepped inside, dripping water in the foyer. She removed her jacket from her shoulders and hung it up on the coat rack. She held out her hand for the suit jacket he had tried to use to keep the water off of him, and he handed it over. She hung it on the coat rack as well.

“Does the home have heating?” he asked, rubbing his arms. He was soaked through and through, just like she was. They needed to start to warm up before either of them got sick.

She nodded. “It also has fireplaces in the bedrooms and sitting room. The man who was taking care of the place said he kept some wood in the cellar, and there should be kindling and matches in there as well.” She rubbed her hands on her arms. “I forgot how cold it gets here when it rains this time of the year.”

“I didn't,” he said with a smile. “You turn on the heater while I get some wood for the fire. Where is the cellar?”

“In the kitchen,” she said, pointing to her left. She watched him go and then she went to the sitting room and looked at the thermostat, turning it on. She had expected to hear something turn on, but nothing happened. She frowned at it for a moment, then went to turn the thermostat up higher. She was still fiddling with it when Sherlock came back up with wood. “I think the heater is broken.”

“Well, there appears to be enough wood to keep the fire going for some time,” he said. “Where's the nearest fireplace?”

“Right here,” she said, nodding towards the one to her right. He went over to it and set the wood down on the floor. “I'll go get some more wood, just so we don't have to keep running back and forth. I get the feeling this storm is going to go on for quite some time.”

“I get that feeling as well,” he said, starting to put the wood in the fireplace.

She went towards the kitchen, looking around. It was updated with more modern appliances and new counters and cabinets, but it looked much the same as it had when she was young. She had told the caretaker she was going to be coming soon so it looked like it had been freshly cleaned. She lingered for a moment before she went to the cellar. She got more wood and was making her way up the stairs when the door opened again. “I've got quite a bit,” she said.

“I'll let you come up and get more. I'm soaked through and through,” he said. “With the heater not working it would be nice to have the fire last for some time.”

“Yes,” she said with a nod as she made her way back up to the kitchen. She went and took the wood to the sitting room, seeing he had already started a fire. She thought for a moment and then went to one of the bedrooms. She had been told the place was furnished and ready for someone to stay there for a length of time, and she just hoped that meant there was blankets. She stilled outside her old bedroom door for a moment, then opened the door. It still looked very much the same, even if the furniture was different. She zeroed in on the bed and saw a thick quilt folded up at the foot of it. She grabbed it, then went to the other bedroom and saw another quilt on the bed. She grabbed that one as well and took them back to the sitting room, seeing Sherlock was back. “The only thing this place doesn't have is spare clothing,” she said with a smile.

“Well, I'm sure we can dry off in front of the fire,” he said, standing up. “Quilts were a good idea.”

“I thought so myself,” she said with a smile. He moved away from the fire and she folded the thinner one in half, placing it in front of the hearth. Then she sat down on it and patted the space next to her. “We can take our socks and shoes off and put them near the fire to dry and then curl up under this.”

“So I suppose I get to enjoy warming up from a chill rain with you in front of a fire after all,” he said with a grin as he began to take off his socks and shoes.

She did the same on the floor, grinning at him. She was surprised he had remembered that conversation they had had the last time they got caught in the rain together. It seemed quite a long time ago now. “I suppose you do,” she said with a chuckle.

Once they had them off and set near the fire he sat down next to her. He reached over for the quilt and draped it over their shoulders. Then he frowned. “We're only going to get the quilts wet with our clothing being like this,” he said after a moment.

She was quiet. They had not gone any farther than kissing, had not even talked about anything more than that. She wasn't sure if she should take off any more clothing than she already had because there would be temptation there, and she wasn’t quite sure if they were even ready to move forward in their relationship. But he had a point; their clothes were going to stay soaking wet if they stayed in them. “I suppose we should put the rest of our clothes in front of the fire too,” she said quietly.

“Only if you're comfortable,” he said. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I don't think you can,” she said with a smile. He took the quilt back off of them and she stood up, turning her back to him. She could hear him stand as well. She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head. Her bra was soaked through, as were her knickers, but she would be keeping both of those on. She laid the shirt down by the hearth and began to peel her sodden trousers off her legs. She finally got them off, and then set that down as well. She turned and saw he had paused in what he was doing, looking at her. His shirt was off, but he was still in his trousers. She blushed slightly at his gaze. “Aren't you going to finish getting out of your clothes?” she asked, looking down.

“I will in a moment,” he said quietly. He moved over towards her. “You look beautiful.”

Her blush deepened. “No, I don't.”

He got in front of her and tilted her head up. She looked at him intently as he settled his other hand on her waist. “You don't think highly of yourself sometimes, do you?” he asked.

“I just don't think I'm very pretty. Not compared to other women,” she said, shaking her head slightly.

“I knew who you were before I introduced myself,” he said. “You grandmother had been a very beautiful woman, even at her age. You looked exactly like she did when I had lived here, only younger. I think I was attracted to you before you ever spoke to me.”

“But I'm no classic beauty or anything like that,” she said.

“You mean that you don't look like Irene,” he said softly.

“Yes,” she said with a slight nod. “I'm not anywhere near as pretty as she is.”

“I was never intimate with her. Don't forget that,” he said. “She is attractive, I will admit that, but I was not attracted to her in that way. I enjoyed her company, but that was all.” He moved his hand away from her face and put his other hand on her waist. “I have wondered what it would be like to be intimate with you, though. That thought never crossed my mind with her.”

She looked at him before placing her hands on his chest. “So you really do want me?” she asked quietly.

He didn't answer, instead pulling her close against him. He kissed her instead, a kiss that told her more than words could that yes, he wanted her. She relaxed into the kiss, sliding her hands up to put around his neck. He pulled her as close as he could, deepening the kiss. She opened her mouth to him, and felt the tip of his tongue touch hers. It had been nearly a week since the last time he had kissed her, and it hadn't felt like this. He moved his hand up her back to keep her pressed against him. When he ended the kiss and pulled away from her she was disappointed. “Do you want to take things further?” he asked, resting his forehead against hers.

“Yes,” she said, her voice very quiet. She moved one of her arms down and gently touched his face. “Do you?”

“Very much,” he said. He moved his hands up her back, his fingers skirting the bottom edge of her bra. “I wanted to make sure you felt the same way.”

“I do,” she said, nodding just slightly. “You should kiss me again.”

“Gladly,” he said, leaning in again and capturing her mouth with his. This kiss was passionate, more than their other kisses had been, and it was making her weak in the knees. She felt him undo the clasp of her bra and she pulled her arms away from him. He took a half step back, putting space between them without breaking the kiss, and she let the bra fall to the floor. As soon as it was off her pulled her against him again, kissing her hungrily. She could feel just how aroused he was and so she responded in kind until he pulled away. “I think I am too overdressed for the occasion,” he said, grinning at her.

She nodded. “I think you are too.” She moved her hands slightly, running her fingers down his chest. She reached for the waistband of his trousers, and she realized her hands were shaking slightly. She undid the button and carefully lowered the zipper. She then moved her hands back up and pushed at the waistband, lowering the trousers off his body. Soon he was able to step out of them, and then he kicked them to the side opposite of the fireplace. He looked at her intently, then began to sink down to the floor, pulling her with him. She sat down first, then laid down on her back. He moved over her, draping his body over hers, and she framed his face in her hands.

Instead of kissing her again he moved his lips to her neck, kissing her pulse point. She shut her eyes and tilted her head back. He nipped at her skin slightly and she moaned low in her throat, bringing her hands up to his back. He slowly began to make his way lower, taking his time about things. There was no urgent need, and she found herself getting wet the more time he took. It was as though he was trying to taste every inch of her, and when he kissed the top of her breast she arched under him slightly, He moved a bit more and gently bit down. This time the moan was louder. It had been a long time since she had felt anything remotely like this, and certainly never to this degree before. She had never had someone take his time with her, treating her as though she was worthy of the utmost attention. He was taking in every detail of her, giving her his undivided attention, and she found herself feeling more beautiful than she had in a very long time.

He made his way lower, grazing his teeth along her stomach slightly. She kept her hands on his back as long as she could, letting her fingernails scratch his skin lightly. H pulled away slightly and put his hands on the waistband of her knickers. She lifted her hips up slightly and he slowly peeled them off of her, leaving her bare naked when he was done. He hovered over her for a moment, looking at her. “You are exquisite,” he murmured.

She smiled at him. “I think you look quite magnificent yourself.” She moved her hands off his shoulders and crooked her finger at him slightly, feeling bold. He moved over her again and she pulled him in for a kiss. He lowered himself onto her more as he kissed her back with an urgent need, and she could feel his erection pressing against her. To know she was having this effect on him, that she was causing this, was a powerful elixir. She wanted him, and she wanted him soon. She ran her hands down his back, scratching his back more this time, and she was rewarded with a shudder running through him.

He pulled away from her, looking down at her intently. “I want to please you,” he said quietly.

She nodded slightly. “All right. I trust you.”

He moved away from her again, letting his fingers trail down her stomach. He kept his touch light, and she shut her eyes and savored the sensation. Soon his fingers were brushing the curly hair she had at the juncture of her thighs, and then his fingers were on the most sensitive area of her body. She arched up slightly as he began to tease her, making her even more wet than she had been before. She put her arms above her head and let him do what he wanted. Slowly he inserted a finger inside her, then a second, pulling them out and then putting them back in with a steady rhythm. She arched her hips up even more as tension began to build, and then he moved his fingers away.

She was going to say something before she felt his tongue take their place, and she didn't bother to hold back the moan that came from deep in her throat. No one else had done this for her, she thought as she grabbed the edge of the quilt in her hands and writhed under his ministrations. No one had taken the time to please her in this way. She didn't want him to stop because the sensation felt so good, better than anything else she had experienced before. She could feel herself tighten more, and then he pressed her clit in just the right way and she came apart under him. He moved away from her and after a moment she opened her eyes and looked at him. “That was incredible,” she said breathlessly.

“I'm glad,” he said. He moved away more and shed the rest of his clothing before coming back to her. She spread her legs wider for him as he covered her, positioning himself at her entrance, and then he slowly thrust into her.. He was larger than she had thought, but it felt wonderful. She let go of the quilt and moved her hands to his back, feeling the taut muscles of his back. He pulled out of her just as slowly and then thrust into her again, keeping a steady rhythm at first but slowly building up more speed. She could feel the beginnings of a second orgasm, and she dug her nails into his back. He took that as the sign it was and increased the speed and depth of his thrusts, and soon it was all that she could do to hold on. Finally she felt her climax coming and then she came, tightening around him. He thrust into her one last time, and she knew she had brought him over the edge as well. She moved her hands down his sweat soaked back before lifting her head up and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. When she was done he moved his head and kissed her softly, a very tender kiss. She moved her hands to frame his face, keeping the kiss just as light. After a few more moments he pulled out of her and then laid down next to her, reaching over for the second quilt and draping it over them. “That was better than any other experience I've had,” he murmured, pulling her against him.

“Me too,” she said with a smile. She snuggled closer to him, wanting to keep him close. She didn't want to go back out to the world. She wanted to stay here with him for as long as she could, savor the moment and the closeness. She reached up to touch his face gently. “Thank you.”

He kissed her again and then draped an arm over her waist. She felt sated and sleepy, and soon her eyes were fluttering closed as he began to run a hand up and down her back. She was asleep soon, and she had no clue how long she had rested when she woke up again, her legs tangled in his. She was a bit colder now, and then she rolled over and saw the fire was low. She could still hear the rain pounding heavily on the roof and knew it would be some time before they were able to leave. But that was all right, she thought as she settled in again. She moved her hand to his waist and settled it there for a moment before running it up and down his waist, wanting to touch him.

“Awake already?” he murmured, though his eyes were still closed.

“Yes,” she said. “How long were we asleep?”

He opened his eyes and moved his arm, checking his watch. “Nearly two hours,” he said before moving his hand back to her waist.

“I feel quite rested,” she said. “And sated, too.”

“That's probably the best rest I've had in weeks,” he said, giving her a smile.

“If you think us doing this again will help you sleep better at night I'm more than willing to do this on a more regular basis,” she said with a slight laugh.

“I would like to do this as often as possible,” he said, moving his hand to the small of her back and pulling her closer. She scooted closer to him until their bodies were touching. “It had been a very long time for me, and I don't think it felt quite so good before.”

“I feel the same way,” she said with a slight nod. “I don't really want to go home right now. I want to spend more time here with just the two of us.”

“I do as well,” he replied. “I don't normally want to run away from my responsibilities but right now I want nothing more than to just be here with you.”

“I wonder if it's going to stop raining any time soon,” she said.

“I rather hope it doesn't. The longer it rains, the longer we can stay here.” He looked at her. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” she said with a nod.

“I'll add more wood to the fire,” he said, moving away from her. He pulled the blanket off of him and stood up, and she took a moment to fully appreciate the view. She leveraged herself up on her elbows to watch, a smile on her face. After a few minutes the fire was warmer, and then she sat up more. He turned back to face her. “I think some of our clothes are piled in a wet heap next to us,” he said with an amused grin.

She looked over to the side. “Well, we'll definitely have to stay here long enough for your trousers to dry,” she said with a grin of her own. “Don't want you getting sick.”

“I still think if you were to take care of me it would be worth it,” he said, moving to go pick them up. They were slightly drier, but she could still tell they were very wet. He brought their underwear over to the fire and laid them down next to it before joining her again. “So what do you want to do now?” he asked as he faced her.

She thought for a moment. “There really isn't much to do other than talk or shag,” she said before she began to nudge him onto his back. She propped herself up over him and he ran a hand up and down her back. “And we can talk at home. We won't get as much privacy there as we will here.”

“So I take it you're suggesting we go for another round,” he said with a grin on his face

She grinned at him before leaning in more. “You are a very smart man, Sherlock,” she murmured.

“I try to be,” he said with a grin before she kissed him. This kiss was slow and thorough, and not as hot and heavy as the other ones had been. He ran his hand along her back and settled it on her waist after a moment. Then he moved his hand and pulled her on top of him more, and she pulled away from the kiss to look at him, an amused look on her face. “I think it might be more interesting with a change in positions this time.”

“I could go for that,” she said, getting up slightly. “Do I get to explore first?”

“If you wish,” he said with a nod. She kissed him again, this time more passionately, but instead of pulling away from the kiss she moved to her side slightly and ran her fingertips down his chest. She curled her fingers slightly in the hair there, and then moved her hand lower as she finally pulled away from the kiss. She felt bold now, bolder than she usually did, and after a moment she moved her hand to his erection and touched it lightly. He shuddered under her touch and so she encircled him, moving her head to dip down to the hollow of his throat. She nipped at the skin there as she slowly began to move her hand up and down, keeping the pressure firm but not too tight. She slowly began to pick up the speed, and she could feel his hips buck slightly. “If you aren't careful...” he said, his voice very throaty.

“I know,” she murmured with her lips against his skin. She moved her hand away and then pushed the blanket off of them more. The room was warmer now that the fire was going again, and she moved away from him. She stood for a moment before kneeling again, one leg on either side of him. She had only done this once, and she wanted to be very sure she didn't hurt him, but this is what being bold led to. She grasped him again, positioning herself over him, and then slowly lowered herself onto him. Once again he filled her completely and she took him as deeply as she could. He moved his hands to settle one on each side of her waist. He gripped her waist tightly but not too hard as she rose up again, then took him deep inside her one more time.

Soon she was working on her own rhythm, and he was helping, thrusting his hips up to drive himself as deeply inside her as he could. After a moment she leaned forward slightly, changing the angle, and his grip on her hips tightened. She could feel sweat covering her skin as she began to ride him, and she could tell soon enough she was going to have another orgasm. After a moment she felt him move one hand away from her hips to move between them, and he began to toy with her clit. Her breath hitched slightly as she felt the tension build, and then when she spilled apart, moaning his name, he moved his hand back to her hips and held her still as he thrust into her one last time. If she had thought the first time felt good, it had been nothing compared to this.

She felt spent all over again, and she braced her hands on either side of his neck, trying to catch her breath. He moved his hands away from her hips, letting his finger trail along the sheen on her back along her spine. Finally she leaned in and kissed him again, a slow and sensual kiss that she knew ended far too quickly for his taste. When she pulled away and looked at him she could see he had a bone deep sense of contentment on his face. “I did well?” she asked, reaching between them to trace a pattern on his chest.

“I honestly think it was better the second time,” he said, continuing to run his fingers up and down her spine.

“I can't wait to see what round three brings,” she said with an impish grin.

“I do still need to recover,” he pointed out.

She moved off of him and then he moved his arms behind his head. She curled up on her side, resting her head on his chest. It felt very comforting, having her ear over his heart. She listened to his hear beat for a few minutes before she lifted her head up. “Will you stay?” she asked quietly, looking at him intently.

“Stay where?” he asked, slightly confused.

“Here. With me. For a while.” She didn't want to say forever, which is what she really wanted, but she hoped what she had said already hadn't scared him away.

“I'll stay until you no longer want me here,” he said, reaching up to touch her face.

“Even after I can handle running the inn on my own and you've saved the other businesses here in the village?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

He nodded. “As long as you want me to,” he murmured, cupping her cheek gently.

She turned her head and kissed his palm, and when she turned back she saw he had shut his eyes and it looked as though he was savoring the small act of intimacy. “I want you to stay for a very long time,” she said, her voice just barely above a whisper. “I don't want you to leave.”

“Then I won't leave,” he said as he opened his eyes. “Because this is your home, and I don't want to leave you, and I know you'll never go back to London with me, not as long as you have the inn.”

A wide smile formed on her face. “You promise?”

“I promise. And you will find I am a man of my word.”

She leaned in and kissed him again, a kiss full of promises and hope and happiness. Maybe she would get her happy ending after all. Because she didn't know when it had happened but she had fallen in love with Sherlock Holmes, and maybe, it seemed, he might have fallen in love with her. She hoped he had, at any rate. When she pulled away she saw he had a wide grin on his face. “Why are you smiling?” she asked.

“Something has occurred to me,” he said, moving his hand to tangle his fingers in her hair.

“What?”

“This is the first real commitment I've ever made in a relationship. The promise to stay here and be with you. You are changing me, Molly. And I find that I like these changes.” He let his fingers run through her hair after a moment. “I think, perhaps, I might actually be in love with you.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. He nodded. “Well, I already knew I was in love with you. I don't know when it happened, it just did. I'm glad you feel the same way.”

He lifted his head up to kiss her again, and she melted against him. This was what she had wanted. She wanted him, his love, his time. She had him and he wasn't going to leave. She knew now that her fears of being left a heartbroken mess were dashed and this new future, whatever it might hold, would be so much brighter.


	6. Chapter 6

Two weeks later Sally had gone into the village to get some ingredients before the big lunch rush that she had forgotten to order. She came back ten minutes later with no food and talked to Greg for a moment before going straight up to Molly, pulling her into the kitchen. Molly blinked slightly as Sally leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “What’s going on?” Molly asked.

“You and Sherlock,” she said. “It’s serious, isn’t it?” Molly was quiet but she began to nod slowly. “Is he going to stay here?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good. Because there was someone asking questions in the village about you, and if it is who I think it is I want Sherlock nice and close.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “You don’t think it’s James Moriarty, do you?”

“I do. Greg’s gone into the village to poke around, but I heard a man asking about you and it was making me distinctly nervous.” Sally looked worried, and there wasn’t much Molly could say to alleviate her fears because she was worried too. “Sherlock will take care of him again, right?”

“I hope so,” Molly said quietly. “He’s at the pub right now. I should go tell him.”

“Call him,” Sally said with a nod.

She nodded and pulled out her phone. She pulled up his contact and began to pace in front of Sally. After five rings it went to voicemail and she hung up. “He’s not answering.”

Sally frowned. “One of us needs to go tell him in person, then.”

“Let’s wait until Greg comes back,” Molly said with a sigh.

“Well, I need to revamp today’s menu because if that _is_ that Moriarty bloke out there I don’t feel like having another encounter with him,” Sally replied. “Come on. Let’s try and get our minds off of things by figuring out what I can make to feed all those people today with what we have on hand.”

“All right,” Molly said, nodding. The two of them got to work and a half hour later Greg came into the kitchen, his face grim. Molly stopped what she was doing. “It’s him, isn’t it?” she asked.

Greg nodded. “Yeah. He’s back.”

“We need to tell Sherlock,” she said.

“If he doesn’t already know he’ll know soon. Moriarty was making his way to the pub when I spotted him.”

Molly and Sally exchanged a look. “This doesn’t bode well,” Sally said.

“No, it doesn’t,” Molly said. “Greg, help Sally. I’m going to see if I can stop anything very bad from happening.”

“All right,” Greg said.

Molly went out to the foyer and stepped outside. It was getting colder now, but she didn’t have time to grab a jacket. She broke into a run as soon as she was outside, heading straight for the pub. She spotted the man standing nearby. He hadn’t gone into the pub yet, and if she was lucky she could make it inside before Moriarty did. She picked up her pace and then slowed when she saw Moriarty turn around. He didn’t pay much attention to her, and she walked into the pub slightly more composed. The bartender, a young man named Kevin, was standing behind the bar, drawing a pint for someone. “Where is Sherlock?” she asked.

“In the office,” he said with a frown. “He said he didn’t want to be disturbed. He’s talking with Christopher.”

“It’s an emergency and he didn’t answer his phone,” Molly said.

Kevin pointed to a door behind the bar. “Through the door, first door on the left.”

“Thank you,” she said, going back behind the door. She opened the door and quickly walked to the door Kevin had told her to go to. She knocked. “Sherlock, he’s back,” she said.

The door opened a moment later and Sherlock stood there, facing her. “Who is?”

“James Moriarty,” she said. “He’s outside the pub right now. Sally said he’s asking questions about me.”

Sherlock got a distinctly angry look on his face. “What type of questions?”

“I don’t know. Sally didn’t stick around long enough to really find out.” She looked up at him. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to try and get him off our backs once and for all,” he said quietly. He turned to the man in the office. “I’ll be back shortly.” Then he stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him. “All right. Let’s both go talk to him.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she said cautiously. “Anything that will get you in trouble.”

“I hadn’t planned on it,” Sherlock said.

She put a hand on his arm and he looked down at it, then back up at her face. “You said he’d try underhanded means to get some of the places, right?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said.

“Then let’s assume that’s why he’s here. He’s found something that will put the business in jeopardy. Approach him like that.”

“All right,” he replied with a nod. After a moment he moved his arm out of her grip and took her hand. “If the people here have told him anything I’m fairly sure he’ll know we’re dating. We might as well go out there as a united front.”

She nodded and gripped his hand tightly. “All right.”

They made their way to the door and she scanned the room. Moriarty hadn’t come inside, for which she was thankful. If it got bad at least nothing could get damaged. The two of them made their way outside and Sherlock made a beeline for Moriarty. He was a shorter man than Sherlock, but he had the same impeccable fashion sense. She watched as he saw Sherlock and grinned. It was a distinctly feral grin. “Good to see you again, Sherlock,” he said.

“Moriarty,” he said with a nod. Molly stayed close to him.

“You must be Molly Hooper,” he said, turning his grin towards her. She nodded, and he offered her his hand but Molly made no move to shake it, and after a moment he pulled it away. “I’d have expected better manners from an innkeeper,” he said.

“What is it you want, other than our inn?” Sherlock asked.

“Oh, I just wanted to see if you’d changed your mind about selling, that’s all,” he said with a drawl. “I mean, it’s going to take a while for the construction to be done, and you’re losing _so_ much business. However will you manage to make it through if the construction suddenly stops?”

Sherlock let go of her hand. “It isn’t going to stop, _Jim_ ,” he said quietly.

Moriarty glared at him. “Well, a few well-placed calls can make quite the difference. I mean, all you have to do is say the money isn’t there to pay the workers and poof! Doubt springs up and people start changing their minds about doing all this work.” Then his smile was back in place. “But I’m sure you’ll hear all about it tomorrow.”

“You know I can pay for all of this out of my own pocket if I have to,” Sherlock said, crossing his arms and glaring at Moriarty.

“Well, _I_ know that, and your little girlfriend here probably does too, but your contractor doesn’t. I may have been able to convince him to pack up and quit working on your little project. He’s probably telling everyone to wrap it all up and head home.”

“If he won’t believe me we can get another one,” Sherlock said.

“Not if I made calls to every contractor in the area. Face it, Sherlock. You have two buildings in various states of disrepair. I can make sure they stay that way. Sell out to me and I’ll make you richer than you already are.” He turned back to Molly. “Both of you. I may even toss in a bit for those idiots you call employees.”

Sherlock uncrossed his arms and grabbed Moriarty by the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him closer. “If you thought this ploy would entice us to sell out you were gravely mistaken,” he said coldly in a low voice.

Moriarty put his hands on top of Sherlock’s and pried his suit jacket out of Sherlock’s hands. Then he smoothed down his suit. “Did he promise to stay here?” Moriarty said, turning to Molly.

“He did,” she said quietly.

“He’s lying. He may consider this place a home, but he loves his business and he loves London more than he’ll ever love you. He’ll leave you here to rot when he finds out he can’t fix this mess he got himself into,” Moriarty said with a smug smile. Then he pulled a business card out of his breast pocket and handed it to Molly. “When you wise up, call me. I’ll even give you more than I give him.”

“No,” she said, glaring at him. “The inn is my home. I’m not going to sell out to you or anyone else, even if I have to use my own money to fix whatever it is you did.”

“Then you’re an idiot,” he said with a sneer, putting the card back in his pocket. He looked at Sherlock. “You know, she really is a step down from Irene. A huge step down. I’m surprised you lowered your standards so much.” Sherlock had punched Moriarty across the face before Molly even realized he was going to do it. Moriarty stumbled, and then looked up at Sherlock, his eyes wide. He reached up to touch his nose, and when he drew his fingers away there was blood on them. “You broke my bloody nose!”

“I’ll do worse next time you set foot here,” Sherlock said.

“I’ll retreat, for now,” Moriarty said. “Good luck getting all the work done. I think you’re going to need it.” With that he began to walk away.

Sherlock shook his fist slightly and Molly took it gently and looked at it. “You need ice,” she said quietly.

“It can keep for now,” he said quietly. He looked down at her. “I’m sorry he said those things.”

“He’s an insufferable git,” Molly said.

“We need to make calls,” he said. “We both need to figure out just how much damage he did.”

“Are we going to be able to fix this?” she asked nervously.

“I will find a way,” he said with a nod. “Give me a moment to end my business here and then we’ll go back to the office and start making calls.”

“All right.” Sherlock went back inside and Molly stood outside the door to the pub. She was shivering by the time he came back out ten minutes later. He noticed and took off his suit jacket, draping it over her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said quietly as they began to walk back to the inn.

“I will fix it, I promise,” he said quietly.

“I know you will,” she said, turning to face him. She pulled the jacket tighter around her. “We’ll get it all ready and we’ll open up again on schedule.”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. They walked quietly for a moment. “He was mistaken, by the way,” he said when they had moved away from the side of the street where the pub was.

“About what?”

“That I would leave you behind with a mess. That Irene is better than you. He was mistaken on both counts.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. She looked up at him, and he cupped her face gently, running his thumb along her cheekbone. “I made a promise to Marguerite about the inn, and I made a promise to you that I wouldn’t leave. I plan on fulfilling both of those promises.”

“I know,” she said with a slight nod. “He’s an idiot if he thinks that would change my mind about you.”

Sherlock grinned at her slightly. “That’s good to know.” He leaned in and kissed her softly, and for a moment she let go of the jacket and settled her hands on his waist as she kissed him back. They pulled apart and began to make their way back to the inn again. Sherlock let them in to see Sally, John and Greg standing there. “There has been a complication. Molly and I need to work on fixing it, and we’ll let you know more when we know more.”

“Should we be worried?” John asked.

Sherlock was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Possibly. We need to find out how much damage has been done.”

“All right,” Sally said. “We’ll take care of things down here. Go fix whatever mess it is that that bastard got us into.”

Sherlock and Molly moved away from them at that point and made their way to the third floor. “Why don’t you make us tea?” Sherlock suggested. “I’ll begin making phone calls.”

Molly nodded. “Okay.” She made her way to her flat and began making them tea, worrying the whole time that Moriarty had gotten them into a mess that Sherlock would not be able to fix. Finally the tea was done and she went to the office, kicking the door slightly with her foot as she held onto the tea service. After a moment Sherlock opened the door and she came in. “How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as it could be,” he said. “I managed to convince our contractor that he would be paid in full, but he wants more money upfront as a guarantee. We have it, but that would leave us less in case of an emergency.”

She began serving the tea. “How much more does he want?”

“Quite a bit,” he said, running a hand over his face. “I’ll take it out of my personal funds.”

She stopped what she was doing. “No. You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“I want to make sure construction doesn’t get delayed,” he said.

“I’ll pay half,” she replied.

“Molly—” he began, but she shook her head. “I insist. It’s my fault Moriarty’s even trying to get this inn. If Marguerite hadn’t left me half of it he never would have come sniffing around.”

“No. It’s half my inn, I’m going to pay for half of the cost to make sure construction keeps going, and that’s final.” She set down the teapot and crossed her arms. “I’m not going to let you talk me out of it.”

“You’ll go bankrupt,” he said quietly.

Her eyes widened. “Exactly how much money does he want?” she asked incredulously.

“More than you can spare,” he said. “I will take part of it out of the money set aside for construction and part of it from my own funds, and we’ll keep your money in reserve for emergencies. Does that sound acceptable to you?”

“I guess it will have to,” she said quietly. She sighed and then went back to preparing the tea. “I can’t believe he’s going to strong-arm us over this. I thought he was a good man.”

“He is, but Moriarty was quite persuasive,” Sherlock said, leaning back in his chair. “This construction may cost us more by the time that it’s done than we anticipated. But I will make sure it is done if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I’m not going to allow it to bankrupt you, either,” she said.

He smiled. “It will take more than this to bankrupt me,” he said. “I know it’s crass to brag about money, but I could finance all the construction costs and still be a millionaire many times over.”

Her eyes widened. “You really are worth a lot of money, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. Not all of it came from the business, though. I inherited quite a bit of money from my father’s side of the family. My father was cut out of his father’s will completely, but my brother and I were taken care of. My grandmother had insisted.”

“Does any of your family still reside here?” she asked, finishing his cup of tea.

He nodded. “My grandmother lives at Bradbury Place.”

“Wow. I never realized that.” She was quiet for a moment. “She’s your father’s stepmother, right?”

“Yes,” he said as she handed him his cup and saucer. “She loved my father, she did. But her husband was a cold and rigid man, and when my father walked away from the family he cut him off without a cent. Since my grandfather died she’s made overtures to my father. I don’t know how well received they’ve been, but she’s trying. My family is all she has left. They were never able to have children of their own.”

“Do you know her?” she asked, beginning to prepare her own tea.

“I do. She would come here to the village to visit me when I lived here. It was all kept from my grandfather and my father for a while. That was the one time she openly defied my grandfather, when he told her she was no longer allowed to see me. She actually moved into the inn for a month until he came here to beg her forgiveness and plead with her to come home. That was when she said my brother and I had to be taken care of in his will.” He smiled. “I’ve paid her a few visits since I’ve returned. My relationship with her is much warmer than the rest of my family’s.”

“What is her name?” Molly asked as she finished her tea and sat down in the seat across from him.

“Catherine,” he said. “Well, I suppose Lady Catherine is more appropriate, but she was always Catherine to me.”

Molly paused in taking her sip of tea. “Your family has a title?” she asked, her jaw hanging open slightly.

“Yes,” he said with a nod. 

“There is so much I didn’t know about you,” she said quietly.

“Please don’t think I’m keeping secrets from you,” he said, setting down his tea and looking at her intently. “It’s not a part of my life I generally talk about. But you know more about me than most people. If there’s anything you want to know, please ask me. I will tell you anything you ask me to tell you.”

She nodded and finally took a sip of her tea. “Is the title the reason they disapproved of my grandmother?” she asked after a moment.

He nodded. “She had no title, no connections and no money. Even though my grandfather could have supported her and my father with his own money they would not hear of him taking Marguerite as his wife. It left my father heartbroken when Marguerite had to tell him she was not allowed to marry his father. My grandfather was a weak man in many respects.”

“They made her tell your father?” He nodded. “Unbelievable. Of all the nerve.”

“My father thought much the same,” he said, smiling faintly.

“How old was he?” she asked.

“He was eight when his father proposed to Marguerite and ten when his father married Catherine. He’s hated my grandfather most of his life. Catherine too, to an extent, because she was not the woman he would rather have had as a stepmother.” He took another sip of his tea. “He never gave Catherine a chance. I think if he had his childhood might have been better. She is a good woman, despite what he thinks.”

“Are you close to your family?” she asked.

“Yes to my parents, no to my brother. There are quite a few years difference between our ages, so he was already an older child when I was born. And he is like my father in his dislike for Catherine. The fact I am fond of her has caused an estrangement between us because he thinks I’m being disloyal to my father, and family loyalty is everything to him.”

“What about your mother?” Molly asked after she had some more of her tea.

“She likes Catherine, but that’s because her mother used to work for Catherine. My grandmother on my mother’s side would have been considered her personal assistant if the term was used back then. I suppose the technically correct term would be ladies mad. My grandmothers are actually still good friends, even though my maternal grandmother no longer works for Catherine. That was another reason ties were cut between my father and grandfather. My grandfather did not approve of him marrying the daughter of the help.”

“Your family sounds more complicated than mine,” she said, shaking her head. “How do you manage to be close to everyone and not feel forced to choose sides?”

“Because I said I would disown all of them if they attempted to make me do that,” he said with a grin. “In some ways I am the favored grandchild by both of my grandmothers, and while I know my parents love Mycroft and I equally my mother would leave my father immediately if he was the reason I stopped speaking to all of them. So everyone is forced to allow me to be close to whoever in the family I choose to be close to.”

“That’s kind of evil,” Molly said with a slight chuckle.

“But it keeps the peace. Truth be told, though, I think my mother has been trying to convince my father to give Catherine a chance. I might do more to help persuade him the next time I talk to him.” He had another sip of his tea. “I would like to change the subject again.”

“All right,” Molly said with a nod.

“This came as a surprise, the whole underhanded means Moriarty tried to take the inn, but I believe it might be just the thing to push Irene away from him. She was very sincere when she said she didn’t want him to take this inn from us.”

“She talked to you for a while before she left,” she said after a moment.

He nodded. “He has blackmail over her. Before he molded her into the woman she had to be with him she was a dominatrix. She had left the profession to attempt to have a life away from all that, and she had started to turn her life around. He has clients who are willing to ruin her name. But she’s said now she could probably withstand anything that might come of it. I was right in that she had been making investments on her own in businesses I had saved. She has enough money to walk away from him and start over again.”

“How does this help us?” she asked.

“Well, for the moment I’m going to ask her to play spy so we don’t get blindsided again. She’s also trying to gather information on the businesses he’d rather not have anyone know he’s attached to.” Molly looked at him. “Let’s just say he has his hands in a few unsavory businesses, but he’s very good at hiding his involvement with them.”

“So what are you going to do to help her?”

“I’m going to help her set up a new life for herself once she’s helped us take him down. I’m going to ruin his reputation the same way he’s threatening to ruin hers.” He shrugged slightly. “It seems only fair.”

She grinned at him. “I like this plan a lot.”

“Well, it’s going to take some time, but I believe when this is all over Moriarty will no longer be a thorn in my side. And I think Irene’s life will be better for it.”

“Well, that’s good.” She had some more of her tea. “Some part of me is thinking I should be jealous that you are helping her, but I’m not.”

“That just shows you’re a good woman,” he said with a smile and a nod. “I don’t care for her the way I care for you. I never have and I never will. But if I can help her out of her predicament and take him down at the same time I’ll consider that my good deed for the year.”

Molly chuckled. “I think that shows you’re more of a good man than you think. And that’s why I like you so much.”

“You feel more for me than simply liking me,” he said in a slightly teasing voice.

“You just want to hear me say I love you again, don’t you?”

He nodded. “It would be nice.”

“Well, I love you,” she said with a smile. “This is probably what my grandmother was hoping for when she did what she did.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said thoughtfully. “She always did have the soul of a matchmaker. I think if she had remained alive she would have been actively attempting to do it while we were both here.” He had more of his tea. “And she would have been quite successful, I think.”

“So you would have started dating me regardless?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

He nodded. “I would have. Probably much earlier than I actually did. I think if we had met when she originally wanted you to start learning how to run things I would have fallen for you many months ago and pursued you on my own.”

“That’s good to know,” she said, blushing slightly.

He set down his tea and got up from behind the desk. He moved over towards her and gently took the cup and saucer out of her hands, setting it on the desk. Then he knelt down so they were more at eye level. “I don’t tell you often enough, but I do love you.”

“It’s nice to hear,” she said with a smile, reaching over to caress his face.

“I would very much like to show you how much,” he said.

“In the middle of the day?” she asked, surprised.

“We can spare some time,” he said. “The problem has been taken care of and I have no other plans for the day. And we don’t have to tell the others we didn’t spend _all_ our time up here working.”

She let a slow smile blossom on her face. “You’re incorrigible,” she said.

“Only with you,” he said with a grin.

“All right. Let’s go to your apartment. It’s closer,” she said, letting go of his face and standing up. He stood up as well and reached over for her hand. She grasped it tightly before he pulled her close and kissed her. And as she kissed him back she relaxed even more. Things were the way they should be, she thought to herself, and all was right with her world again.


	7. Chapter 7

Molly had been in the office taking care of some business the next day until Sally had knocked on the door and reminded her it was time to start setting up for lunch. She'd finished her call and made her way downstairs with her friend. “We dodged a bullet,” Molly said to Sally as they made their way to the kitchen. “I made Sherlock tell me how much money the contractor wanted up front. Even paying a third would have left me with nothing.”

Sally whistled soundlessly. “Wow. Moriarty must have said something very persuasive.”

“He lied through his teeth,” Molly said, a grim look on her face. They made it to the foyer when Molly noticed someone standing there. “I'm sorry, we're not ready yet,” she said a bit more loudly.

“I'm looking for Sherlock Holmes,” the woman said as she turned around, giving her a smile. “He lives here, correct?”

Molly nodded, going up to her. “Yes, he does. I'm the other owner, Molly Hooper. May I ask who you are?”

“I'm his grandmother, Catherine Holmes,” she said, extending her hand. Molly was stunned for a moment but recovered quickly, shaking her hand. “I thought I would pay him a visit since it's been a few weeks since we've seen each other.”

“He's actually not here right now,” Molly said as she let go of Catherine's hand. “He's in the village at one of the other businesses he's working with. I can call him, if you'd like.”

“Molly...” she said after a moment's thought. Then her smile brightened. “You're his girlfriend, aren't you?”

Molly nodded. “Yes, I am.” Her own smile widened. “Would you like to come in for tea?”

“I can see about getting Greg and John to help today,” Sally said with a grin. “I'm Sally Donovan, by the way. I'm the cook here.” She extended her hand to Catherine, who shook it.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Catherine said with a nod. “And I would love to join you for tea. Sherlock has told me quite a bit about you.”

“Good things, I hope?” Molly said.

“Very good things,” Catherine said with a chuckle.

“We all live on the third floor,” she said. “We can have more privacy up at my apartment.”

“I spent quite a bit of time up there the last time Sherlock lived here,” she said, moving towards the stairs. Molly walked next to her. “You look exactly like Marguerite did. I'm sorry she's gone. She was a lovely woman.”

“Sherlock said you stayed here for a time,” Molly said as they started up the stairs.

“Yes, I did,” she replied with a nod. “My husband George had disowned his son Jonathan when he married Annabelle's daughter Victoria.” Then she paused. “Did Sherlock explain his family tree?”

“A little bit, yes. Annabelle was your ladies maid, right?”

Catherine nodded. “She was also one of my best friends. I adore Victoria, and I have since she was a baby. Personally I was happy for her and Jonathan. But my husband thought it was beneath the family for him to marry a commoner. So I said nothing and let my husband dictate what was best for the family. And then when Sherlock was fourteen I found out he was living here at the inn. I had never met him before, so I came here to have lunch occasionally. Annabelle came with me the third time and then he found out who I was because she told him. We hit it off fairly well from the beginning.”

“But then your husband found out,” Molly said.

“Yes. He was absolutely livid. He told me I couldn't associate with my grandson anymore, that I was to ignore his presence. And I told him no. I packed a suitcase and came here to the inn and your grandmother booked me a room here. I stayed here for a month.”

“I'm surprised you stayed here, considering who my grandmother was,” Molly said quietly as they got to the second floor.

“Oh, I know my husband loved her and would have married her if his family hadn't threatened to cut him off without a penny. He didn't really love me, but I was the more appropriate choice. But I wanted to get to know her.” She chuckled. “She knew who I was the first moment I came here for lunch, but she never treated me badly. We had tea together nearly every day, actually. She became one of my friends as well, much to my husband's chagrin.” Catherine laughed slightly. “I believe the problem is referred to as the missus and the ex?”

Molly chuckled. “I believe so, yeah.”

“He came here to beg my forgiveness after a month. I couldn't make him make amends with his son, but I could make sure he took care of his grandsons. So I forced him to do just that before I came home, and I made him allow me to come see Sherlock whenever I pleased. I ended up spending quite a bit of time here.” She smiled wistfully. “Annabelle and I were both sorry to hear about Marguerite. She really was such a kind and generous woman.”

“Yes, she was,” Molly said with a nod. She was quiet for a moment. “Your husband had a title, right?”

“Yes. He was an Earl. Now Jonathan has his title, and controls the manor and the lands my husband owned. That's what I wanted to talk to Sherlock about.” She paused for a moment. “And I'm probably boring you with all of this.”

“Not at all. Sherlock didn't go into many details, and I'll admit I'm curious,” Molly said as she shook her head. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not really. My husband died six months ago, and I was simply surprised I haven't been told to leave Bradbury Place yet, that's all. I'm fairly sure it's Victoria and Sherlock's doing, but I wanted to let them know there's no need. I don't want to live there any more. Too many bad memories. I did not have a pleasant marriage, I'm afraid.”

“I'm sorry,” Molly said quietly.

“It's all right. My husband married me for duty, not for love. He never let me forget that.” They made their way to the third floor stairs. “When he died he left all of his money to Mycroft, Sherlock and I. I have quite a bit left over, but I bought a small home here in the village, near Annabelle. I don't need a huge manor when I'd be happy with a place that feels more like a home. I wanted to let Sherlock know he can stop persuading his father not to come back to Bradbury Place. It's his birthright.”

Molly was quiet. “I'm not sure how titles and everything work.”

“It is a bit confusing, isn't it?” Catherine said with a chuckle as they started to make their way up the stairs. “My husband was the Earl of Bradbury. When he died the title went to his son, Sherlock's father, because he's the closest living male heir. Now, my husband disowned Jonathan and left him none of the money he had made. That was well within his rights. His own father had squandered the family fortune, or else that would have gone to Jonathan regardless of his father's money. As it stands the manor, the lands that the family owned and all the jewelry that my husband inherited went to Jonathan. My husband had hoped that Jonathan would be in dire straits when he died, because he would rather have had Jonathan lose the manor and all of that then have him keep it. But Jonathan is a very intelligent man with a keen eye for business. He has more than enough wealth to cover all the costs. So my husband was thwarted in the end, which actually makes me quite happy.”

“Can I be blunt for a moment?” Molly said cautiously. Catherine nodded. “He sounds like a bastard.”

“He was. I was only nineteen when I married him, which I think was much too young, considering he was much older than me. To marry a woman that is only nine years older than your son? He liked the vanity of it all." She paused. "I honestly think he might have been different if he had married Marguerite like he had wanted, but there is always the chance I could be wrong. And, in a way, Sherlock would not be nearly as happy as he is right now because if my husband had married Marguerite you may not have been born, and if you had you and Sherlock would have been related.”

“Oh my God, I hadn't even thought of that,” Molly said, her eyes wide. “We would have been step-cousins.”

“Precisely. So in the end I think it all worked out for the best.” Catherine gave Molly a smile. “I honestly don't think I've seen Sherlock this happy in a very long time. Ever, possibly. And I think I owe that all to you. So thank you.”

“It's nothing,” Molly said, blushing slightly.

“No, I think it's a very big thing,” Catherine said gently. Molly didn't respond, and they made their way up the rest of the stairs quietly. Molly led her to her apartment and let them in. “It looks very different now,” she replied.

“I moved my own furniture in,” Molly said as she went to the kitchen. “Most of my Nana's furniture is in Sally's apartment.”

“I see. I actually like it. I think I'd like to decorate my new home in a similar fashion.” She moved to the picture of Marguerite Molly had kept on the fireplace mantle. “I do miss your grandmother very much. She and Annabelle and I met up every week for lunch and gossip. We were all quite close. She was very proud of you, I must say.”

“So Sherlock's other grandmother is still here in the village?” Molly asked, moving into the kitchen to begin to make tea.

“Yes. I bought a home three homes down from her,” Catherine replied. “It's much smaller than what I'm used to, but I think I prefer that. The manor is too large for one person and staff, not that I needed much staff. I may be Lady Catherine to the world at large, but I don't need people doing every little thing for me. I can take care of myself.”

Molly put water in the kettle and then put it on the stove. “Is Sherlock's other grandfather still alive?”

“No. He died fifteen years ago, so he's only got the two of us now.” She sat down on the sofa and watched Molly. “I haven't seen Victoria since she was eighteen years old, when she made her way to London to go be with Jonathan. I am hoping that might change in the future, though I'm not getting my hopes up.”

“I take it Sherlock's father is stubborn,” Molly said with a smile, turning to look at her.

“Quite stubborn. But the one thing that makes me proud of him is that he vowed to be a better father than his own had been to him, and if Sherlock is any example he's fulfilled that vow magnificently.” Catherine smiled back. “Have you met him yet?”

“No, I haven't,” Molly said as she shook her head. “I don't know if he wants to meet me.”

“He probably will. From what Sherlock has told me his brother Mycroft is married to his work. I think his father had feared both his sons would spend their entire adult lives alone.” She paused. “Sherlock told me your relationship is very serious. He promised to stay here.”

Molly nodded. “Until I don't want him here anymore.”

“Then you are a very lucky woman. He is definitely a man of his word. And it will nice to be close to him again. I didn't see him very much when he moved to London.”

Molly went back to gathering the things for tea. “Could you answer one question for me?”

“Of course,” Catherine said with a nod.

“If Sherlock's father dies, the title goes to Mycroft, right?”

“Yes. The only way Sherlock would get the title is if Jonathan and Mycroft both die and he's still alive. But I know he doesn't want it and the responsibilities that come with it. Are you all right with that?”

“I don't want him to have a title,” Molly said, her eyes wide. “I like things exactly as they are. I mean, if we ever got serious enough to talk marriage I'd much rather stay here and run the inn with him than be a part of the aristocracy.”

“Then I think he made a good choice,” Catherine said with a widening smile. “There have been a few women who have been interested solely in the fact there is the slim chance he could inherit the title. Mycroft is quite a few years older than Sherlock, at any rate, and Jonathan is not young himself. I'm glad you aren't among them.”

“You seem to be a very nice woman. I'm sorry Sherlock's father never liked you.”

“It was to be expected, I suppose,” Catherine said. “He loved Marguerite very much. Was he here for the funeral?”

“I don't think so. But there were so many people here and I didn't stay among the mourners for very long the day of the funeral. I just couldn't bear it. So he might have been here and I didn't see him.”

“If he didn't, he might come soon, if for no reason than to pay his respects to her and to meet you. Hopefully I can have Sherlock tell him Bradbury Place will be vacated within the month and he can stay there.”

“Does he want it?” Molly asked. “I mean, if it holds bad memories for you it probably holds bad memories for him as well.”

“I don't know,” Catherine conceded. “It might. As it stands, he owns it and can do what he pleases with it. If he razes it to the ground Mycroft might not be happy, but I would.”

“Your marriage must have been hell,” Molly said quietly, turning to look at her.

“Yes. Especially when I didn't give him more children. He was a very weak man. He caved to his mother and father more than I would have liked, and they weren't fond of me. They felt that they should have pushed him to marry someone else. I almost wish they had. I've spent quite a few years trapped in a loveless marriage. I am very glad Jonathan escaped that fate.”

“I hope you reconcile, at least for Sherlock's sake,” Molly said. “He shouldn't have to feel as though his family is split apart.”

“I feel the same way. Even if Jonathan and I are never close I would at least like the chance to be civil to him, and get civility in return.” She looked at Molly closely. “You care for Sherlock very much, don't you?”

She nodded. “I'm in love with him.”

“That's good,” Catherine said with a nod. “For the longest time I worried he was going to turn himself into a human robot. Especially after the incident with that Adler woman. That was his first real relationship, and to be used like that...” She shook her head slightly. “I'm honestly just surprised he didn't swear off women for good.”

“I've met Irene,” Molly said. “She seems...” She thought for a moment to find the right word. “Interesting.”

“You're a better woman than I am, then,” Catherine said. “I have a few choice opinions of her, none of which are pleasant.”

Molly chuckled slightly.. “Well, I am secure in the knowledge he never felt anything towards her, or at least anything like what he feels towards me. He's told me that quite a few times.”

“I don't think I've ever seen him smile as much as I did when he would talk about you,” Catherine replied with a chuckle of her own. “Does he love you?”

“Yes, he does.”

“Good. He deserves to be loved by a good woman. I have hope he won't end up like me, trapped in a miserable marriage with someone who doesn't love him.” She paused. “Not that I think the two of you have talked about that yet.”

“No, we haven't. But I want him to stay for a very long time. Forever sounds just about right.”

Catherine nodded. “I like you quite a bit, Molly. I hope you get your forever with my grandson.”

Molly was about to reply when there was a knock on her door. “Excuse me a moment.” Molly went to the door and opened it, seeing Sherlock standing there. “Oh. I wasn't expecting you back right now.”

“I thought I would pick you up for a quick bite to eat but Sally told me you had a visitor,” he said with a grin. “Have you been interrogated?”

Molly laughed. “No. We've been having a lovely chat, though. I was just making tea.” She moved out of the way and he came in. “Your grandson is here,” she said to Catherine as she shut the door behind him.

Catherine stood up with a wide smile and went over to Sherlock, her arms open wide. “You've been too busy to come see me,” she said, embracing him.

“It's what get for trying to run five businesses at once,” he said, embracing her back. “I barely have enough time for Molly and we live in the same building.”

“And I would much prefer if you spend time with her than me,” she said with a chuckle as she let go. “I approve of her, and I'm fairly sure Annabelle will as well.”

“You both should join us for dinner soon,” he said. “Then you can embarrass me with stories about my childhood.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea. After I move into my new home we should arrange that.”

“New home?” Sherlock asked, looking confused. “You're leaving Bradbury Place?”

“I'm moving here to the village,” Catherine said with a nod. “The place is too big for just me, and your father has every right to live there, more of a right than I do. And my memories there are not pleasant. I want a place that I can call a home. I won't have that if I stay there.” She reached over and touched his face gently, patting his cheek. “You don't have to run interference with your father anymore.”

“If you're sure,” he replied.

“I am. I'll be out by the end of the month. I'm just waiting to get furniture for my new home. It's actually quite exciting to get to decorate my own home. The only things I'm taking from Bradbury Place is my clothing and the jewels your grandfather bought for me, and the artwork I bought for my own pleasure. Everything else is staying there.”

“It would be nice to have you closer,” he said with a nod. “I could spend more time with you and my other grandmother that way.”

“See? It's the best decision for everyone.” She smiled at him as the kettle whistled. “How long do you have to visit with us?”

“I had planned on an hour, but I could extend it to two,” he said as Molly went to begin making the tea. “As long as I get something to eat. I'm quite hungry.”

“Sally should have lunch ready in an hour,” Molly said. “If you both don't mind eating with the workers and the villagers.”

“I think I would love to see what your new head cook can do,” Catherine said with a smile. “But for now let's sit and enjoy tea and catch up. It's been two weeks since the last time we talked. What's happened since then?”

Sherlock sat down next to his grandmother and they began to talk. Both Sherlock and Catherine made it a point to include Molly in their conversation, and they enjoyed tea together before they went back downstairs to enjoy lunch. Catherine was very impressed with the food and made it a point to tell Sally so, promising to come eat there as often as possible once she moved to the village. Soon Sherlock had to go back to work, and he walked Catherine back out to her car before going back to work. Molly took care of the last of the lunch customers and began to help Sally set up for dinner. Time ran away from her and soon the dinner crowd was gone and it was her, Sally and John cleaning up after everyone. Once the kitchen was set to rights she excused herself to go back upstairs.

She had been in her apartment for a half hour when there was a knock on her door. She opened it and saw Sherlock there. “You're back early,” she said with a smile.

“Well, I hadn't expected having to share you with my grandmother today,” he said with a grin. “I wanted to spend some time with just you tonight.”

“I like her a lot,” she said as she moved out of the way so he could come in. She shut her door behind him. “She's a very nice woman, despite everything.”

“She told you the whole story?” he asked.

“Yes. I admire her. I don't think I could survive in a loveless marriage and be as sweet as she is,” she said. The two of them moved to her sofa and sat down. “I can tell why you like her so much.”

“She is a very good person,” he replied, putting an arm around her shoulders. She moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “My other grandmother will probably adore you as well. I get the feeling she has been discretely checking on you. Lestrade said he spotted her having lunch here a few days ago, and John swore he saw her last week.”

Molly chuckled. “Well, when I get a proper introduction I'll try and be charming.”

“Just be you. She'll like you just the way you are.” He relaxed slightly. “I talked to my father today. He's quite surprised Catherine is leaving the manor. I think he might return her overtures soon.”

“Really? That's good news!” Molly said. She lifted her head up and looked at him. “What brought on the change of heart?”

“I'm not sure. I think he's growing tired of life in London, as is my mother. They have always enjoyed a more simple life, and I think while he doesn't have fond memories of his childhood home he's missed it. I think he thinks he can make it an actual home now that his father is no longer there, but he never thought he would get the chance as long as Catherine lived there. I don't think he understood how lonely she was there until today. But a lot of that is just my thoughts on the subject. I could be completely wrong.”

“I bet you aren't,” she said, putting her head back down. “Would you ever want to live there?”

“No. If by some accident I inherit the title I don't plan on moving there. I would take care of the place, but I'd much rather stay here at the inn. This is my home, I suppose.”

“I'm glad you feel that way,” she said with a smile. “I'll probably stay here instead of moving back to my childhood home. I think. I'm still debating that.”

“There are pros and cons to each living situation,” he said. “You have your future to think about.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He was quiet for a moment. “Have you thought about what you want from me? I mean, as far as a future together goes?”

“Like, do I want marriage and children and all of that?” she asked, pulling away to look at him. He nodded as he turned to face her. “I've thought about it. I'm not going to push for anything, though.”

“I've thought about things,” he said slowly. “I would like to build a life here with you. I'm not advocating we do it any time soon, but I could see us getting married at some point, possibly having children together. And the fact I'm even considering it speaks volumes.” He looked at her. “Is that too forward?”

She smiled widely, shaking her head. “No. It just confirms that we're on the same page about things, because I'd thought the same. I mean, it's too soon now, but later I could see it happening.”

“Good,” he said, and she could feel him relax. “If that does happen, I think this place would be too small, though.”

“Yeah, there's not a lot of room for a family here,” she said. “But if we were to move to my old home we'd be a ways away if there was an emergency here.”

“As I said, there are pros and cons to each situation,” he said. “But there is time to think about all of that. For now I want to enjoy what we have and not rush into things.”

“Me either,” she said with a nod. “It's nice to know you aren't adverse to it, though.”

“Trust me, I was surprised that I was even considering it,” he said with a slight chuckle. “As I told you a few weeks ago, you're changing me.”

“And you like the changes?” she asked with a smile, leaning forward more.

“I do,” he said, moving his arm from around her shoulders. He reached over for her and pulled her onto his lap as she laughed. She shifted slightly so she was straddling him and then she looked down at him. “You are a good influence on me.”

“I'm glad,” she said with a smile. She leaned in and kissed him softly, and he moved his hand up and ran his hand up and down her back, keeping her close. She kissed him for a few moments before she pulled away from the kiss. “Do you need to go back to your apartment tonight?” she asked quietly. “I mean, I know we've slept in separate beds so far, but I think it would be nice to wake up next to you in the morning.”

“I can stay here tonight,” he said, moving his hand up to caress the back of her neck. “I just need to wake up early.”

“I can set the alarm,” she said with a slight nod.

“This means we're getting more serious, you know,” he murmured.

“I know,” she replied. “But it's what I want.”

He leaned in and kissed her again in response, and after a few minutes he broke the kiss. “I propose we adjourn to your bedroom now and we don't leave there until the morning.”

She chuckled slightly. “That sounds like a really good idea,” she said, getting off of his lap. She offered him her hand and helped him up, and he pulled her close when he was standing. He kissed her again and then they began to make their way to her bedroom. Yes, she realized this marked a serious turn in their relationship, but that was all right. It appeared at this point that they both wanted the same thing, and that made her have quite a bit of hope for the future.


	8. Chapter 8

Molly was so happy she could burst. After that first night they didn't spend a night alone again. Sometimes they were in her apartment and sometimes they were in his, but for the next week they went to bed together and woke up together in the morning. She approved of this turn in the relationship, even if in the morning one of them would very quietly go from one apartment to the other. She was fairly sure the others knew what was going on, but neither she nor Sherlock wanted to flaunt the fact that their relationship had gotten more serious and as long as Greg, John or Sally didn't say anything neither would they.

She worried, though. Moriarty had only made a tactical retreat because Sherlock had resorted to breaking his nose. Now that they had thwarted his plan to stop the construction she was on edge that he would try something else. Irene hadn't spoken to Sherlock about whatever Moriarty's plans might be so she was left to wonder and worry. As happy as she was, it felt like a lead weight in the back of her mind, and she was worried that she was going to let the worry overwhelm her sometimes. Still, she had work to do and she threw herself into it.

She had woken up early this morning, just as the sun was coming up. They were in Sherlock's apartment, and at the moment he was still asleep. She disentangled her legs from his and propped herself up to watch him. He actually looked much younger when he was asleep, she realized with a smile. More peaceful and less careworn. He didn't need to be anywhere for another two hours, so she was going to let him sleep. But she needed coffee and something to eat. She carefully slipped out of bed, trying her best not to wake him up. She had forgotten to bring something to sleep in so he had loaned her one of his shirts, and when she stretched it rode up a bit. She liked it a lot and was fairly sure she wasn’t going to let him have it back any time soon.

She yawned as she made her way out of his bedroom, trying to stay as quiet as she could. She began to set up the coffee for the morning and then looked around in his refrigerator for something to eat. There wasn't much food there, but she saw some crumpets and marmalade and she pulled them out, preparing them as the coffee began to brew. The coffee was still brewing when she finished making the crumpets and she was just about to take a bite when she saw him walk out of his bedroom, wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else. “You were supposed to stay asleep,” she said, shaking her head.

“I could smell the coffee,” he said with a grin, coming over to her. “And besides, I know when I'm sleeping alone.”

“How is it you can get out of bed and I don't wake up but when _I_ get out of bed you wake up?” she asked before taking a bite of her food.

“It's because I come back here before I start making coffee,” he said, coming up behind her. He moved her hair out of the way and kissed her neck. “You look very nice in one of my shirts,” he murmured, his lips hovering above her skin.

“If you aren't careful I'll forget about my breakfast and coffee and drag you back to bed,” she said with a chuckle.

“I wouldn't be adverse to that,” he said. He kissed the area between her neck and her shoulder as she tried to take another bite of her breakfast. “But you came out here for a reason so I should let you eat.”

“Yes, you should,” she said as he pulled away from her, letting her hair fall back. “After I eat, though, I'm taking you back to bed.”

“All right. After you eat.” He moved away from her, leaning against the counter. “Not that I don't enjoy the sight of you in one of my shirts, but maybe you should keep something here to sleep in.”

“I don't know. I might just steal this shirt,” she said, turning away from her food to lean against the island, facing him. “It's my favorite color.”

“I'll have to remember you like purple,” he said with a grin. “I think that knowledge will come in handy if I have to get you a gift.”

“Well, my birthday is coming up in a month and a half,” she said thoughtfully. “And you want to know what I would really like?”

“What?”

“A day with you where neither of us have to work,” she said with a grin. “And hopefully it won't rain this time.”

“I don't know. Curling up with you in front of a fire was rather nice,” he said.

She laughed. “We did more than just curl up in front of the fire.”

“Trust me, I remember,” he said with a grin of his own. “Four times before we finally got to leave.”

“I wouldn't have minded just staying there all night and going for round five. Possibly six as well, depending on when we got to leave the next morning.”

“You wouldn't?” he asked. “I may have to remember that for your birthday as well.”

She chuckled this time and set her food down, moving over to him. She moved her arms around his neck and he settled his hands on her waist. “Well, regardless, if I get to spend the day with you that would be a good birthday.”

“Is that all you want?” he asked, moving his hands around to the small of her back and pulling her against him.

“Yes. I just want your undivided attention for the day,” she said with a smile.

“I'll make it a point to make sure that happens,” he murmured before he kissed her. She kissed him back passionately, and they stayed like that until there was a knock on the door. They both pulled apart and he frowned. “It's too early in the morning for someone to need me right now.”

“Maybe something's wrong,” she said, frowning as she let him go.

“I hope not.” He made his way to the door and opened it. Molly stayed in his kitchen, but she could see it was Greg standing there. Greg said something to Sherlock at length, then he looked behind Sherlock and nodded towards her before Sherlock closed the door. “You have a visitor downstairs,” he said quietly.

“Who on earth could be here this early in the morning?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Your mother.” He watched her eyes widen. “Lestrade said he would send her away if you wanted. He knows you aren't close.”

“Why on earth would she come all the way out here?” she asked, shaking her head. “Maybe something's wrong.”

“Perhaps.” He moved over to her. “What do you want to do?”

She thought for a moment and then sighed. “Let me go change and I'll go talk to her.”

“Do you want me to come down there with you?”

She shook her head. “Stay here and get coffee and something to eat. I'll come back up when I'm done.”

He nodded and with that she headed into his room. She pulled on her skirt, then pulled off his shirt and put on her bra and shirt. Her clothes were slightly wrinkled, but she wanted to find out why her mother was here and take care of whatever caused her to come there as quickly as possible so there was no point in going back to her apartment to change. She went back out to find Sherlock had poured her a cup of coffee. “I thought you could use this,” he said, handing her the mug. “I made it the way you like it.”

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a quick kiss before taking the mug. “I'll be back soon.”

“I'll be waiting,” he said with a nod. She made her way to the door and opened it.

Greg was standing nearby. “I take it you're going to talk to her,” he said. She nodded. “Do you want me to go down there with you?”

She shook her head, giving him a smile. “No, it's all right. I'm fairly sure this is a conversation I'd like as few people to witness as possible. I'll be fine.”

“All right,” he said with a nod.

“What were you doing up so early?” she asked.

He looked a bit sheepish. “You weren't the only one not sleeping in their own bed last night.”

“Really? Good on you,” she said with a wider smile. He grinned back. “Are you happy?”

“Yeah, I am,” he said with a nod. Then he sobered slightly. “If you need me, just come back up here. I'll gladly throw Melinda out.”

“I don't think it will be that bad,” she said. “Thanks, though. Is she in the foyer?”

“Yeah. I'll see you later, then.” He made his way to his apartment and she turned towards the stairs. She squared her shoulders and made her way down to the first floor. It had been a very long time since she had spoken with her mother. She hadn't had the inclination to try and make amends. She still fully blamed her mother for running away from the life that Molly had loved so much and then not giving a damn about what happened to her once they moved to London. There was a lot of anger and resentment there, but she had to steel herself for bad news. By the time she got to the first floor she felt as though she could talk to her mother calmly.

Melinda Hooper was looking around the foyer when Molly got there. Her mother certainly looked better off than she had when Molly had last seen her; her clothing looked designer quality and her hair was expertly colored and styled. It also looked as though she had had some plastic surgery. The more Molly studied her mother the more she had the sinking suspicion she knew exactly why her mother had returned to her childhood home. Molly cleared her throat and her mother turned, slightly startled. She recovered quickly and gave her daughter a smile. Molly could see her teeth were quite white, as though they had been bleached. She saw no signs of the nicotine stains she had seen all those years ago. “Hello, darling,” she said in a chipper voice.

“Mum,” she said with a nod. Her mother moved towards her, as if to embrace her, but Molly took a step back and her mother stopped in her tracks. “It's quite early to be visiting.”

“I took the train,” she said. “I just arrived.”

Molly took a sip of her coffee. “What do you want?” she asked quietly when she was done.

Her mother appeared to think for a moment, as though she was debating something in her head. Finally the cheery demeanor vanished. “How did you know I wanted something?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“You'd have no reason to return here unless you wanted something. I mean, you didn't even return for Nana's funeral, and you're her daughter.” She took another sip of her coffee. “I was in the middle of doing something.”

“I bet you were,” her mother said, looking Molly up and down. Molly flushed slightly; she knew her mother would know exactly what the wrinkled clothes meant, that she’d thrown on what she was wearing the day before. “Is he upstairs?”

“Not that it's any of your business but yes, he is,” she said.

“What's his name?”

She paused for a moment. “His name is Sherlock Holmes.”

Her eyes widened. “The man who owns the other half of the inn? My, that's interesting.”

“Well, I'd like to get back upstairs so I can enjoy the rest of my morning,” Molly said. “So please tell me what you want.”

“I want money,” she said. “Your grandmother left me a pittance in that trust fund my father set up. I spent it all and then the lawyer told me I couldn't get any more, that that was it. But I know you got everything else. I know you're worth a lot of money. You can spare some for your mother.”

“No,” Molly said, shaking her head. “I know exactly how much Nana left you. It wasn't a pittance.”

“You're a millionaire. You can spare it,” her mother said. “And you owe me.”

Molly's jaw dropped. Her mother had the gall to say that to her, that she _owed_ her? “How in the bloody hell do I owe you anything, Mum? Everything I am today I owe to Nana, not you. You don't give two shits about me and we both know it.”

“I almost had an abortion,” she said. “You wouldn't even be here if my mother hadn't found out I was pregnant. You owe me your very life.”

She could feel herself start to shake with anger. The confirmation that her mother really didn't want her, that she was only there because her Nana had forced her mother to carry her, it was too much. “Get out,” Molly whispered.

“No. Not until you give me what I'm owed,” her mother said, advancing on her.

“Get out,” she said more loudly. She could hear footsteps on the stairs behind her, but she didn't want to see who was coming. Dear God, she didn't want them to see this, whoever it was. “I'm not giving you anything.”

“Yes, you're going to give me money. You're going to make all the trouble and torment worth it.”

“I think you should leave now,” she heard Sherlock say coldly from behind her. She didn't turn to look at him but she could hear him get closer. “You are no longer welcome on this property.”

“The only reason you own any of this property is because my mother was going to marry your grandfather,” she spit out. “I could have been related to an earl. I could have been somebody important. But your grandfather was a spineless bastard and I was stuck here.”

“If you think that will elicit any money from either of us you are sadly mistaken,” he said, She could feel him standing behind her now, so close than she could lean back slightly and rest against him. “I'll make sure you never see another dime from the estate for as long as you live.”

“I hope she's worth it,” her mother said. “She's the biggest mistake I ever made. I hope you know what you're saddling yourself with.”

“Get. Out,” he said, his voice low and menacing. Her mother blinked, actually looking a bit frightened at his tone and what Molly assumed was the look on his face.

“Don't expect you've heard the last of me,” she said before turning on her heel and stalking towards the door. She opened it up and then slammed it behind her.

Molly was shaking so hard with anger that she was starting to spill the coffee. Sherlock reached over and took the cup from her hands, moving it over to the table and setting it down. Tears were streaming down her face as she wrapped her arms around herself. He came back over and pulled her into an embrace, saying nothing as she uncrossed her arms and held him close, sobbing into the shirt he had put on. She reached up and bunched it in her fists as she cried. It was just too much, it was all too much. He rubbed her back and pressed a kiss in her hair as she got it out. She didn't know how long they had been standing there when she was finally spent. She pulled away and looked at him. “Why did you come down here?” she asked quietly.

“I had planned on just staying at the top of the stairs if you needed me,” he said.

“I didn't want anyone to see that,” she said, pulling away from him. She turned her back to him, wrapping her arms around herself again. “I just...she wanted to get rid of me. She never wanted me.”

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “I should have stayed in my apartment.”

She wanted to nod. She wanted to yell at him and tell him yes, he should have let her deal with it on her own. But she wouldn't have had the strength to make her mother leave. Her mother would have wheedled money out of her just so she would make her leave. She didn't want him to know just how much her own mother despised her, and now he knew, but her mother wouldn't have left if he hadn't been there. She didn't know what she was feeling right now. “Please, don't feel sorry for me,” she whispered.

“I don't. I think you're incredibly resilient. You're better than she'll ever be.” She could feel him place a hand on each of her shoulders. When she didn't shrug them off he pulled her back against him and slid his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. “She never deserved you,” he murmured.

She reached up and grabbed his arms, leaning into him. “I wanted what you had. I wanted two parents who loved me, a family who would fight for me. I know my father loved me, and my Nana did, but I always felt my mother hated me. Now I know she did.” She shut her eyes. “God, it hurts.”

“I don't know what to say or do to make things better,” he said. “But whatever you need, I'll give it to you.”

She let go of him and pulled away, looking at him. “Can you take today off? I just want to hide away and sleep and I don't want to think about things. And I don't want to be alone.”

He nodded. “Let's go back upstairs and I'll make some calls. Today you will have my undivided attention.”

“Thank you.” She began to make her way up the stairs with him beside her. Her heart felt like lead, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget it all. She headed for his apartment and he let them in. She went straight back to his bedroom and laid down on his bed, curling up on her side. After ten minutes he joined her, laying down next to her and pulling her closer. She uncurled slightly and placed her hands on his chest. “I want to hate her,” she said quietly. “But she's right. I owe her.”

“You don't owe her a damn thing,” he said. “If nothing else, you owe your grandmother, but you've more than repaid that debt to her by being everything she had hoped for. You exceeded her every expectation. Your grandmother loved you with all her heart.”

“I know,” she said. “I just can't believe she said those things. That she feels that way towards me, that I'm a mistake.”

“You are not a mistake,” he said adamantly.

“I wanted a family like yours. Even with the problems you had two parents who loved you so much they made sure you got straightened out before it got bad, and two grandmothers who adore you. You were wanted. You were loved.” She sighed. “She said vile hateful words, but I would have paid her just to make her go away.”

“If you had paid her she would have kept coming back,” he said. “She would have bled you dry.”

“I know.” She rolled over again and he pulled her against him. “I just want to go to sleep and forget this morning ever happened.”

“All right,” he said. She shut her eyes and tried to go to sleep. Sleep finally did overtake her, but not before her mother's words replayed themselves in her head over and over again like a broken record. She slept fitfully the entire time she was asleep, and she drug herself out of a restless sleep to find she was alone in bed. She glanced at his alarm clock and saw it was ten in the morning. She could smell fresh coffee so she got out of bed and went into the kitchen. Sherlock was sitting at the table, reading something on his phone. He looked up when he heard her go to the coffee. “You're awake.”

“Not that I got much rest,” she said quietly. She poured herself a cup of coffee, then began to fix it the way she liked it. She went to the table and sat down. “What were you reading?”

“An e-mail from your lawyer,” he said. “I asked him some questions on a purely hypothetical matter, and he gave me some purely hypothetical answers.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “He couldn't answer my questions directly because I'm not his client. But, hypothetically, a woman such as your mother can do nothing to change a will, and a woman such as your grandmother may have taken precautions to make sure the money she left to her granddaughter couldn't be touched by a money hungry relative.”

She set her coffee on the table and then stood up, going over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for asking.”

“I won't allow her to hurt you. If she tries I'll make sure your lawyer buries her in court proceedings until she squanders what little money she has left trying to fight you on the will.” He looked up at her. “I do not allow the people I love to be hurt, not if I can do something to stop it.”

“Thank you, again,” she said.

He moved his chair back and pulled her onto his lap. She relaxed against him. “You'll find I can be particularly bloodthirsty when it comes to protecting the people I care about.”

“I should be concerned, but right now I'm just grateful,” she said. “I hope I never have to see her again. I don't want anything to do with her.”

“If she comes on the property I'll make sure she's made to leave before you have to see her. And if she tries to contact you any other way, tell me. I'll make her stop.”

“I don't deserve you,” she said quietly.

“Don't ever think that. Please,” he said quietly. “If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be nearly as fulfilled as I am right now. I'd have gone through the rest of my life living for my work and shutting everyone but family out. And soon enough they would be gone and I'd be alone with nothing to show for my life than money I couldn't take with me and success that doesn't solely belong to me. You saved me from that existence, Molly.”

“I did?” she asked, lifting her head up and looking at him.

“You did,” he said with a nod. “So don't think you don't deserve me. I don't deserve you.”

She leaned in and kissed him softly. “What a pair we make,” she said when she pulled away, framing his face in her hands.

“I think we make a very good pair,” he said, and when she rewarded him with a small smile he grinned back. “A smile. That's good.”

“You are awfully good at comforting, you know that?” she said.

“I used to be absolutely rubbish at it.”

“You used to be bad at something?” she asked, surprised.

“I haven't dated much, but I did have a girlfriend a few months after Irene. She had a fight with her best friend and she called me, ranting and raving about it. Every single thing I said to try and comfort her was met with another round of ranting, that time directed to me, and finally I just told her she was in the wrong and she should kindly forget she knew my phone number. Then I hung up on her.”

Molly's smile grew a bit more and suddenly laughter bubbled up. She pulled her hands away from him and covered her mouth. “Oh my God,” she got out as she chuckled. “I shouldn't be laughing about that.”

“What part do you find the most amusing?”

“The kindly forget she knew your number part,” she said through her hands. “I can so hear you saying that to someone annoying you. I mean, it's so _you_.” She felt the laughter taper down to a chuckle, and then she moved her hands away from her mouth, putting her arms around his neck. “Promise me you won't say that to me if we break up.”

“I don't want to think about breaking up with you,” he said, running his hands up and down her back. “I promised I would stay here until you don't want me here anymore. I'm rather hoping you don't want to get rid of me for a long time.”

“I've been thinking you should stay forever. And your grandmother thinks you should stay that long, too.”

“Well, if you two agree on that point then maybe I should,” he said with a nod. “As long as you promise to not tire of me for that long.”

“I promise.” She looked at him, smile still on her face. “I didn't think I'd smile at all today. I thought I'd be miserable and sleep all day and just curse the world. But you cheered me up. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He kept running his hands up and down her back gently. “Are you hungry? You never did finish your breakfast.”

“I'm starving, actually,” she said.

“Then let me cook for you,” he said. “I don't cook for you often enough. You usually cook for me.”

“This will be a nice change of pace, then,” she said before giving him a quick kiss and getting off his lap. He stood up and she reached over for her coffee, bringing it over to that side of the table and sitting down in the chair he'd given up. “What are you going to make?”

He moved into the kitchen. “I'm not sure. I don't think I have much food at the moment,” he said with a frown as he opened his refrigerator.

She chuckled before taking a sip of her coffee. “Do we want to move over to my apartment and you can use my food?”

“I'm thinking that might be best,” he said when he shut the door.

“What were you planning on eating in the near future?” she said, standing up.

“I've been sampling new menu items at the restaurants lately,” he said. “I usually have no appetite left by the time I get home. Both cooks insist I eat the entire serving, which is too large for the cost. I've been trying to get them to scale back.”

“Oh, I feel for you.” She set her coffee back down and went into his bedroom, grabbing the shirt she'd slept in the night before. When she came out he raised an eyebrow. “It's my shirt now. You're never going to wear it again.”

“I suppose I can live with that,” he said with a grin. “Do you want your coffee?”

She nodded. “Yes, please.” He went over to the table as she got her purse. She opened his door and made her way to her apartment down the hall, digging her keys out of her purse and unlocking her door. She could hear him close his door and lock it up behind them as she walked into her home. She set her purse on the table and moved into her bedroom, carrying the shirt. She quickly stripped out of her day old clothing and put the shirt back on. By the time she was finished he was in her kitchen, looking through her food. Her coffee was sitting on the counter in front of one of the stools. “So. What can you make?”

“Omelets and scones,” he said.

“You can make scones?” she asked, surprised.

He nodded. “I helped save a bakery once. The new baker I brought in had a very good scones recipe. I asked for it after I had a blueberry one. The scone recipe is the same base, but with different additions. I can make currant scones from the ingredients you have on hand.”

“I don't know. Mine are pretty good,” she said with a grin, picking up her coffee.

“The recipe I have has won awards,” he said.

“All right. Give it a shot.” She sipped her coffee as he began to cook. They kept up an easy conversation as he cooked. She was honestly surprised she felt relaxed, that she felt like smiling. She had to wonder how she had gotten so lucky to have him in her life right now. And soon enough the food was ready and he was handing her a plate. She picked up the scone first and took a bite. She shut her eyes as she savored it. “Please give me this recipe,” she said, opening her eyes wide when she finished chewing.

“I told you it was good,” he said with a grin, bringing over his own plate and sitting next to her at the counter. “But yes, I'll give you the recipe, so long as you don't share it with anyone else except possibly Sally. We're far away enough from London that I don't think we'll be competition. We could incorporate it into our breakfast menu.”

She didn't respond, instead concentrating on the scone. He had put two on her plate and as soon as she finished the first one she immediately began eating the second one. He watched her with an amused look on his face as he began to eat his own breakfast. Soon she began to eat the eggs, and they were just as good as the scones. When she was finished she looked at him. “That's it. From now on, you're making breakfast in the morning.”

“If I have the time,” he said.

She smiled at him. “I would actually like it a lot if we made the time for it. I mean, there's some days I only get to see you for an hour at night. If we make the time in the morning, that would be a good start to the day.”

“I usually try and let you sleep in until the last possible moment,” he said with a slight frown.

“Well, I don't mind getting up early to spend more time with you,” she said.

“If you're sure.”

“I am.” She got off of her stool and then moved over to him. “I think I'd like to go back to bed now.”

“Are you tired again?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I want to thank you properly for being the best boyfriend I've ever had,” she said. “Is that all right?”

He nodded, standing up. “Lead the way,” he said with a grin.

She reached over and took his hand, pulling him into her bedroom. She was thankful she had him in her life, more thankful than she could put into words. She loved this man with all her heart, and she wanted him to know just how much. She just hoped she could show him now because she was afraid if she tried to tell him she wouldn't be able to get it all out. One day she might be able to, she thought to herself, but for right now she would simply let her actions speak for the words she couldn't say.


	9. Chapter 9

Time continued to move on and the business continued to be bettered. Construction was on track and in fact was going better than expected. The fact that the contractor had gotten all the money he had demanded upfront meant it was available for the supplies and the labor. The remodeling was moving at a quick clip, much to Molly's delight. When she would put on a hard hat and observe the other building she could see the rooms taking shape. She was pleased with the progress even if she wasn't pleased with the overall cost. But Sherlock told her he would make sure it was done well on time the first time and she trusted him to keep his word.

By now she had started to become an old hat at most duties she was doing in the kitchen and dining room. And she had made the decision to hire the young man from the construction crew who had talked about staying after the construction was done to be the new maintenance man. John was already doing more duties in the kitchen and he confirmed that yes, he'd much rather do that than fix things. So Molly had made her first official hiring decision and Sherlock decided she could make the rest as well, so long as she ran them by him first. As it got closer to the time when the ten larger rooms would open up Molly would start looking for people to be housekeepers and wait staff in the dining room. She could feel the business doing better, and she could see it reflected in the books. She was immensely proud of herself and the people who had been trying to teach her.

Now Mrs. Hudson and Greg began to start their training, or rather Mrs. Hudson started and Greg intensified the training he'd started a week earlier. While Mrs. Hudson would be the front desk clerk, the person everyone dealt with when they first got there, Molly needed to learn to do it as well because between Greg and Mrs. Hudson and her they could handle the desk twenty-four hours a day in case complications arose. If Molly had thought the training that Sally and John had subjected her through in the kitchen had been tough the front desk training was brutal. She found herself getting more frustrated with the two of them and the hypothetical situations they put out there than she would like, but she had to admit their teaching style meant she had to figure out a viable solution for all parties involved in situations she'd never thought could occur. Mrs. Hudson and Greg said these situations were things that had actually happened to them, and they were either the most common or the craziest, and she never knew what she was going to be hit with. It kept her on her toes, but it also kept her frazzled.

Finally, about two weeks after the disastrous visit from her mother, she had had too much. She had simply left the inn, saying she didn't know when she'd return, and then she walked through the village. She wasn't paying attention until she found Sherlock's special tree. She stayed there for a few minutes and then made her way to her childhood home. It was a long walk, and it made Molly seriously consider buying a car. But she got peace and quiet and she sorely needed that right now. She got to the home and frowned. There was a truck parked in the driveway, and it was loaded with construction supplies. There was also a van, and the sign on the side said that it took care of home heating systems. She made her way over and looked around. She wanted to find out who was in charge and what all those people were doing there. She went inside the home and stopped short when she saw Sherlock standing there, giving directions. “Sherlock!” she called over.

He turned and spotted her, his eyes wide. He made his way over to her. “I can explain.”

“Who are all these people and what the bloody hell are they doing to my home?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“They are fixing it,” he said. “It was meant to be a surprise for your birthday. I wanted to bring you here and show it off in all its finished glory and then we could spend the day and the evening here for your birthday. You weren't supposed to come over here before then.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” she said warmly, the anger on her face melting away as she smiled at him. She went over and framed his face in her hands before leaning up and kissing him. He was surprised for a moment before he put his arms around her and kissed her back, keeping her close. They stayed like that even as the workers began making catcalls. After a moment Molly pulled away, giggling. “This is a wonderful present,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Why are you out here, anyway?” he asked, guiding her away from the workers and out onto the porch. They sat on the gliding chair and he turned to face her.

“Training isn't going as well as I'd like. I keep getting frustrated.” She sighed. “It's all I can do to keep my temper, and it's not even like I'm dealing with actual customers.”

“Ah,” he said. “Front desk problems are usually very headache inducing. I can see why you're overwhelmed. I'll talk to Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade about that.”

“Do you have any time you can spare today?” she asked. She took her hand and let it knead his thigh gently, moving her hand closer to his groin. She could tell she was having an effect on him.

“There isn't a place with privacy,” he said thickly. “But the workers will be going back to the inn shortly for lunch. Maybe a half hour?”

“Then I'll wait,” she said, grinning at him. “I'll even be nice and stop teasing you.”

“I would appreciate it,” he said as she pulled her hand away. “As it stands, I might be embarrassed if I stand up right now.”

“I'm sorry,” she said sympathetically. She moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “What improvements are you making here, anyway?”

“Well, I had observed a few things after we had gotten dressed again the last time we were here and you showed me around. Minor things that needed repair, mostly. I definitely wanted to make sure the heater was repaired, however. I wasn't sure if you'd want the interior repainted, so the only other thing I had planned was to freshen up the exterior paint.”

“I don't know. I think the less I'm reminded of certain things the better,” she said quietly.

“You're still thinking about your mother's visit, aren't you?” he asked.

She nodded just a bit. “Yeah. I have good memories here, I do, but I would probably want to spend more time here if it looked less like the home I'd lived in before.” She lifted her head up to look at him. “We could probably repaint the place ourselves. If you're up to it.”

“I could agree to spend a few days doing that,” he said. “Was there anything else you would like done to the place?”

“I'd love new floors. Rip out the old floors and put down new wooden floors. Or maybe new tile in the kitchen and wooden floors everywhere else. And new furniture. I mean, I'm going to live at the inn, but I'd like this place to reflect my own tastes and not the tastes of whoever decorated for the other family that was going to live here.” She paused. “And I'm going to pay for part of this.”

“It's not a gift if you help pay for it,” he pointed out.

“Well, at least let me help with the furniture and the paint. If you want to give me the gift of getting this place fixed up, that's fine. But I don't want you footing all the costs.”

“I don't mind,” he said. “I usually don't make extravagant gestures, but with you I find I want to.”

She smiled at him, then leaned forward and kissed him softly. “You are far too good to me,” she murmured.

“You're making me a better man,” he said.

She smiled a bit wider than put her head back on his shoulder. “I want you to remember that if we ever have a fight.”

“We'll probably have one eventually. I can be incredibly stubborn about things, but I am not so thickheaded that I wouldn't eventually admit I was in the wrong if I actually was.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “Eventually.”

She chuckled. “I'm a doormat. It would take a lot for me to actually yell at you. You'd need to do something spectacularly stupid for me to get livid about something.”

“It's a good thing I'm not prone to doing stupid things, then.” He turned slightly and kissed the top of her head. “I don't look forward to having a fight of that magnitude.”

“Maybe we won't. If we're careful not to let disagreements get out of hand I think we can go along in our relationship without a serious fight. At least I hope we can. I don't like the idea of us ever getting that angry at each other.”

“I think we could work through most problems,” he said with a slight nod.

She was quiet for a few minutes. Truthfully she didn't want to think they might have bad times, even though she knew realistically it was bound to happen. Eventually they would move out of the honeymoon stage of their relationship and then reality would set in. Still, they were on much the same page about everything, so she was grateful for that. As long as they _stayed_ on the same page they should be fine. Finally she lifted her head back up and looked at him. “You never did answer my question.”

“What question was that?” he asked, slightly confused.

“How much time you have to spare today.”

“Not as much as I would like. I wanted to start everyone here with what they needed to do and then I needed to go back to work at the market. But perhaps I can spare an hour, maybe two. Why?”

“We've gone back to not spending a lot of time together during the day, that's all. I miss having you around. I mean, it's nice to have my evenings with you, and breakfast in the mornings, but you're usually so tired by the time you get back home that we don't talk much.”

He nodded. “You're right, I suppose. But if it helps, one of the restaurants is turning around faster than I would have anticipated. I can spend less time helping them in a week, two at most. Richard is picking things up and implementing my changes at a breakneck pace, and his employees are keeping up with the changes quite well.”

“That's good news!” she said with a smile. “Soon they'll be doing it all with no help from you at all.”

“That's what I'm hoping,” he said. “I feel bad that I'm leaving you with most of the responsibility for the inn. I should have been concentrating my efforts on that as opposed to the other businesses.”

“No. I don't want you know who getting any type of footholds here.” She saw him smile faintly at her roundabout mention of Moriarty. “I can handle it on my own with Greg's help.”

“Do you still want me to help when my other duties are done?” he asked.

“Of course I do,” she said, surprised. “Why would you think I wouldn't?”

“If you can run the place on your own you won't need my help,” he said after a moment. “You won't need me to be there.”

Her jaw hung open slightly and she closed it after a moment. “Sherlock, do you think I'm going to ask you to leave once I can run the place on my own?” she asked.

He looked down. “I'm rather hoping you won't. But you might not want me to have any say in anything once you're confident in your own skills. That's my biggest fear.”

She reached over and framed his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “No. I want you to stay, even if I can run the place all by myself. If we're voicing our fears right now I worry that being here won't be enough for you. That you'll want your old life back, and you'll leave me to go back to London.” She caressed his face slightly. “If I promise not to push you away once I get trained, will you promise not to abandon me because you're bored?”

“I promise,” he said with a nod.

“Then I promise too,” she said with a smile. “And I already know you're a man of your word.”

She could see him relax, and so she moved her hands away from his face. He reached over and grasped one of them in his. “I may take on the occasional client, but I'll make the inn my primary focus.”

“I can handle you leaving sometimes. Just not all the time. I want you nice and close in case I screw up.”

“Is that the only reason you'll want me around?” he asked in a slightly teasing voice.

“I can think of many more reasons. The most important reason is that I love you and I don't want to lose you. The other ones are kind of secondary, but I'll tell you all of them if you want to hear them,” she said with a smile.

“I don't need to hear them,” he said. “I'll take your word for it.”

Her smile widened. “Good.”

He grinned back, and then turned when he heard someone clear their throat. She looked as well and saw someone nod towards the house. “I think I'm needed inside. Give me a few moments?”

She nodded. “Of course.” He got up and she watched him go back inside, and she turned her attention to the area around her. There were other improvements she'd like to make to the place, like taking better care of the landscaping. She started to think more about what she wanted to do and began to make plans in her head. Sherlock returned a few minutes later, and she grinned up at him. “That was quick.”

“He asked for clarification on a few things, and I also told him about the new flooring I want installed,” he said, offering her his hand. “He actually had some flooring samples from another job on hand and he wants your input as to what you want.”

“I actually get to choose?” she said with a slight look of surprise.

“This is your home,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Of course you get to choose.”

She took his hand and stood up. “What if I don't like anything?”

“Then he'll come by the inn tomorrow with more samples and you can choose from those,” he said. “I know you consider the inn your home, but this place can be a home as well, more than just a childhood one. For all you know you may change your mind about living at the inn and want to live here.”

“I doubt it,” she said. “I mean, I want to be nice and close in case something goes wrong.”

“You might find you want a bit of distance once the inn is fully operational,” he said. “And there are other things to consider.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“If we do continue this relationship for some time and we decide to have children, there really isn't room to raise them at the inn. Neither of us have a second bedroom in our apartment, and I don't think you'd leave a child alone in one of the other apartments. That's not in your nature.”

“You've put some thought into this, haven't you?” she said quietly.

“I have. It wouldn't hurt to have this place be your primary home at some point, or at least a place you could consider living in.”

She nodded. “I'll think about it.” She gave him a grin because really, the fact he was thinking about those things, and the fact his biggest fear was that she wouldn't want him around anymore showed her more than anything else that he was really going to stay as long as she wanted him to. The knowledge made her very very happy. She leaned over and kissed him quickly. “Let's go see what he has to offer right now.”

He grinned back and then led her back into the house. He introduced her to the man who was going to be making the changes to her home and he showed her the samples she had. She fell in love with the oak floors the moment she saw the sample, and the last tile sample he showed her was perfect for the colors she wanted to paint the kitchen. She asked him about updating the kitchen as well, and she began to tell him what she wanted and he told her what he could do. He promised to bring her other samples the next day. Finally he rounded up his workers and within ten minutes it was just her and Sherlock there. “Well, what do you want to do now?” he asked, settling his hands on her waist.

“Have they started any of the work yet?” she asked, sliding her arms up around his neck.

“They were only taking measurements and things today,” he said. “Other than the heater. That's been worked on today, but there was a part he needed that he didn't have so he'll come back tomorrow to finish it.” He grinned at her. “Why?”

“There's some perfectly good beds here. We should occupy one of them for a bit,” she said with a grin of her own. 

“It's a good thing I told them to go home for the rest of the day, then,” he said with a laugh. He took a step back from her so that she wasn't close, and she dropped her arms, giving him a quizzical look. Then he knelt down and picked her up. She laughed and snuggled next to him. “Which room?”

“My old bedroom,” she said, turning slightly to point.

“First door on the left,” he said with a nod before moving in that direction.

“You remembered.”

“I did.” He carried her to the room, pushing the slightly open door all the way open with his foot. He set her down in front of the bed and then pulled her close against him. “I bet when you were a child you used to do great things in this room,” he said.

“Mad science experiments,” she said with a laugh. “I was never really into dolls and girly things.”

“I think I would have liked to know you when you were a child,” he said, running a hand up and down her back.

“Well, I can tell you one thing,” she said with an impish smile.

“What?”

“I never expected to shag a gorgeous man in this room when I was growing up.”

He grinned at her. “Nice to know you think so highly of me.”

“Oh, I think very highly of you,” she said with a smile. Then she leaned in more. “If I only get you for two hours I would much rather kiss you than talk.”

He nodded and kissed her in response. She moved her hands to his chest and curled her fingers in the fabric of his shirt, bunching it up slightly. She hoped it was always like this when he kissed her, this feeling like he thought she was the most desirable woman in the world. When she was kissing him the world just fell away and all that mattered was the two of them. She had never felt that with anyone else she had been with. One day she would tell him that, tell him every reason she loved him and every reason she wanted him to stay, but today she just wanted to revel in the fact that right now she had some of his precious time to herself.

He pulled away from the kiss, reaching between them and unbuttoning her coat. Once it was open in the front she shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor. She got the feeling all of their clothes would end up in a heap today. She was wearing a button down shirt today and denim trousers, and he began to work on the buttons of her shirt. Soon that was open, and he settled his hands on her waist for a moment before sliding them to the small of her back. His hands were warm against her skin. “I regret being too tired to do much of anything last night,” he said, looking down at her.

“Then take advantage of today,” she said with a smile. She didn't let him pull her against him, and she began to unbutton his shirt. He'd taken off his suit jacket at some point before she got there, and she didn't have to worry about that. He had rolled up his sleeves and so she didn't have to worry about the cuffs of his shirt, so when she was done and she began to push his shirt off he pulled away from her and got it off quickly. She shrugged out of her own shirt at the same time and when she was done she took her bra off as well.

He moved just a bit closer and undid the button on her trousers, then slowly lowered the zipper. He moved his hands around to the waistband and pushed them down. When he got them low enough she shimmied out of them and then kicked them to the side. She returned the favor, quickly getting his own trousers off of him. When he reached for her again she let him pull her close. He kissed her in a way that made her want to sigh in contentment. It wasn't a frantic and passionate kiss, but one that was leisurely yet intense, as though he wanted to make sure he remembered the kiss when she wasn't there. When he kissed her like that she melted against him and almost forgot whatever else it was she wanted to do with him because she didn't want him to stop.

He moved her over to the bed and when the backs of her knees hit it he pulled away from her and lowered her onto the bed. She moved farther up, giving him a very seductive smile which he readily returned. He got on the bed as well, moving over her and bracing himself before leaning in and kissing her again. This kiss was much more passionate, and she moved her hands to his face before sliding them down to his neck and finally moving them away to his shoulders. He pulled away from the kiss after a few moments, moving his lips towards her ear. “What do you want to do today?” he murmured.

She thought for a moment as he pulled away to look at her, and then a slow grin spread on her face. “We need to change positions,” she said.

“This should be interesting,” he said with a grin of his own.

He moved away from her and then she got off the bed and he took her place. He stretched out and she moved on top of him. Instead of kissing him again she moved her lips to his neck, pressing a kiss there as he tilted his head back. She sucked on the skin just a bit, not hard enough to leave a mark, and then nipped at the skin lightly. She was rewarded with a low groan in his throat, so she bit again, a bit harder this time. She lifted her head up to see he'd shut his eyes. She moved away from his neck, trailing kisses lower down his body. When she got low enough he lifted his hips up and she peeled his boxer briefs off, freeing his erection. She looked up and saw he still had his eyes shut, and with a slight smile she moved over him and lowered her mouth onto his erection.

He moved his hands to her hair, groaning as she moved her mouth up and down. She had never done this with him before, and to know he was enjoying it made her bolder. She curled her tongue around him and took him as deeply as she could. She reached lower and began to play with him, lightly squeezing as she continued to move on him. Finally he pulled on her hair just slightly, and she pulled away from him as he let go. “I want you,” he said throatily when she looked up.

“All right,” she said with a nod before she pulled her knickers off and moved onto the bed more, positioning herself. He put his hands on her waist as she lowered herself onto him, but this time he did not let her set the pace. He surged up as she moved lower, driving himself deeply into her. She gasped for a moment as how much he filled her but then she was moving up. She knew right now it was going to be quick and dirty, but that was fine. She wanted to make sure he had his release more than she had hers. She wanted to make sure he had pleasure. She moved down again, letting him grip her waist as he surged into her again, and she kept up a quick pace. Finally she felt him thrust up one last time and then he stilled. She could tell he was spent. She moved off of him and then curled onto her side slightly against him.

“I was selfish,” he murmured as she put a hand on his chest. He turned to look at her. “You didn't get anything out of it.”

“It's all right,” she said, lifting her head up and giving him a smile. “You can make it up to me later.”

“I intend to,” he said, reaching over for her hair and tangling his fingers in it. She leaned in for a kiss, and after a few minutes he pulled away. “We should clean up soon.”

“I don't know. I like lying here next to you,” she said, settling in next to him more. “And you said you could spare two hours.”

“Well, I know there are items in the washroom for us to use, and the water heater works,” he said, moving his hand so that he was stroking her waist. “And I could always start making things up to you there.”

“We do have quite a bit of fun when we take a shower together, don't we?” she mused. “We'll probably need to update the washroom here if we want to enjoy ourselves more.”

“That was already in the plans,” he said with a slight chuckle. “I had hoped if I started today it could all be done by the time your birthday came, but I'm not sure if that will be the case now.”

“It's all right if it's not,” she said. “You could always kidnap me to London and we could just leave for a few days.”

“That doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually,” he said after a moment. “I could take you out on some proper dates.”

“That would be nice.” She shut her eyes. “I'd love to go see a play, and maybe have dinner somewhere very nice.”

“Is there anything else you would like to do?”

“I'm not sure. You could just surprise me.” She lifted her head up and smiled at him. “You don't have to try and sweep me off my feet, though. You've already done that. I wouldn't mind if it was just simple things.”

He moved his hand up to touch her face gently. “While we're there I'm going to see about selling my flat,” he said.

“No, don't do that,” she said, her eyes wide.

“Why?” he asked, a frown on his face.

“If we decide to go to London for whatever reason I don't want to have to stay at a hotel. I actually like your flat quite a bit. And if you do take the occasional business under your wing there you'd probably rather have that place available then have to find a new one or live out of a suitcase at a hotel.”

His frown slowly turned into a grin. “You do raise some very valid points.”

“See?” she said, matching his smile with one of her own. “So don't sell it. I mean, have the things you really want here sent here, but don't empty the place out.”

“I already brought over most of the things I really wanted,” he said as she set her head back down on his chest. “And I had bought a new bed for my place here, but I would prefer to have my old one here.”

“Is it more comfortable than the one you have here?”

“There's a reason we spend most of our nights at your apartment,” he said. “Other than the fact you generally have more food for breakfast than I do.”

She chuckled. “We'll see how I like that bed when we go to London.” She relaxed more against him. “Think we can get a bit of rest before you have to go?”

“My phone is in my suit jacket pocket. Did you bring yours in here?”

She nodded. “I put it in my trouser pocket. I'll get it and set the alarm.”

“Give us an hour to rest. I still want to take a shower before we have to leave, and then it's quite a walk back.” He let her go and she got off the bed, going to their clothes and pulling her phone out. She set the alarm on her phone and then set it on the nightstand before moving next to him. While she had been off the bed he had gotten the quilt and when she got back into bed he draped it over the two of them, and she snuggled next to him. “Thank you,” he said quietly once they were settled.

“For what?” she asked.

He pressed a kiss to her neck. “For today. For everything.” 

“You're welcome,” she said, shutting her eyes. She felt him tighten his hold on her waist and she relaxed against him, enjoying this brief moment she was going to get with him. She'd get him again tonight, and she was thankful for that, but there was always the chance he would be too tired to do much of anything so she was going to enjoy this moment as much as she could.


	10. Chapter 10

Molly’s birthday arrived a month later and Sherlock told everyone he was taking a week off to go back to London and Molly was coming with him. He did tell her there would be some business to take care; one of the businesses they were owners in was having a problem and they wanted his help in solving it. But he assured her the day of her birthday she would have all of his time and attention. They arrived three days before her birthday and he spent the first two taking care of the business. She had worried it would be a major problem, but Sherlock had it resolved more quickly than anyone had expected. The next day they primarily spent at his flat, and then on her birthday he took her out on what was definitely the best date she had ever been on.

She woke up the next morning bound and determined to do something nice for him. She knew he would probably wake up before she finished, but she quickly and quietly got dressed and let herself out of his flat to go to the bakery down the street, the one that Sherlock had gotten the scone recipe from. He had given her a copy of the key so that the first two days she could spend time in London and not have to be cooped up there the entire time. She had spent quite a bit of time at the bakery, sampling all the goods. When the owner, a lovely man named Angelo, found out she was Sherlock’s girlfriend he had said he would whip something up as a surprise and to give him a few days. Now she was going to go pick it up.

She got to the door before they were open, but she could see Angelo moving about. She knocked on the door and he turned, giving her a wide smile. He came over and opened the door and let her in. “It’s a good thing I decided to come in early today,” he said with a chuckle. “I got a few other business owners to pitch in for this surprise.”

“He’s going to love it,” she said with a smile as she stepped inside. She could already smell delicious food being made. “What else got included?”

“Basically everything he likes to eat that would be appropriate for breakfast in bed. I also picked up a copy of all the papers I’ve seen him carry in here, and there’s also a carafe of orange juice because I know he likes it but never keeps any in his home.” He went into the kitchen while she waited at the counter, and he came out with a small basket. “I made sure I made his baked goods this morning so they’re fresh.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Did you enjoy your birthday yesterday?” he asked.

She nodded. “No woman usually enjoys her birthdays after she turns thirty. You’re too close to forty at that point. But it was honestly one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had.”

“He really cares for you. I never thought I’d see him leave London. And he’s leaving for good?”

“More or less. He’s going to help me run my grandmother’s inn as soon as he’s done saving the other businesses in the village.”

“Then you’ll have the best run inn in the country,” Angelo said with a chuckle. “And tell him he’s free to use any recipe of mine he wants. It’s not as though you’re here in London.”

“No, we definitely aren’t,” she said with a wider smile. She picked up the basket and hefted it slightly. “Thank you for all of this, Angelo. I think he’s really going to enjoy it.”

“It’s a small way for all of us here to thank him. If it wasn’t for him half the businesses on this block would have gone under. We’re sorry to see him go, but if he’s happy then we’re all happy for him.” He nodded towards Sherlock’s building. “Make sure he comes by tomorrow morning.”

“I will,” she said, turning to go. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, too. Bye!”

“Bye,” he said as she got to the door. She opened it up and then headed back down the block to the coffee shop, getting a coffee for each of them before going back to Sherlock’s flat, carefully balancing it all. She made her way to his door and quietly opened the door. She had lucked out; he was still in bed. She set the basket down on the counter and began pulling things out, microwaving the food that needed to be reheated and stopping the microwave when the timer was on one. There was definitely enough food in there for her to have some as well, and the baked goods smelled divine.

She got down a plate and then looked for something to use as a tray. Not seeing anything she tried to balance the plate and utensils and everything else, but after taking a few steps she set down the juice and coffee. She carried the plate and silverware into his bedroom and set it down on the nightstand next to him. She set the newspapers down next to it and then quietly went back for the two drinks. She came back in to see him stirring in bed. “I left and you didn’t wake up,” she said with a smirk as he sat up. “I learned and went out and bought coffee this time.”

He yawned for a moment then looked at her. “I could smell good food,” he said.

“Breakfast in bed,” she said with a chuckle. He sat up more and she pointed to the plate with one of her full hands. “Food from the local bakery and a few other places, newspaper, coffee and orange juice.”

“How did you manage to do all this in one morning?” he asked, glancing at his clock. “The only business open right now is the coffee shop.”

“I’ve been planning it for the last few days.” He moved over slightly and she sat down, setting the drinks next to the plate. “Do you like it?”

“Yes. I’ve never had anyone give me breakfast in bed before that wasn’t my mother,” he said with a grin. “But please tell me you get some of this too.”

“I do,” she said with a nod. “I just haven’t made up a plate yet. But I’ll probably go get my coffee in a minute.” She grinned at him. “Eat! Everything’s warm.”

“I will. But I think I might make a mess.”

She chuckled. “Well, I served it to you in bed. If you want to get up and eat at the table that’s fine.” She reached over for the plate and picked it up, leaning over for a moment to give him a quick kiss. “Get dressed and bring out your drinks.”

“All right.” She gave him one last grin and headed back to the kitchen. She set his plate down on the table then went and made her own plate. Her food was in the microwave, just about done when he came back out. She turned and watched him sit down at the table in front of his plate. He sit his drink down and reached for his fork, taking a bite. “I’ve missed the food here,” he said when he was done.

“I thought you might,” she said with a chuckle.

“I may go ask a few of the owners for recipes before I go back home,” he said before taking another bite.

“Angelo said we could use any recipe from his bakery that we want,” she said as the microwave dinged. She pulled her food out, then put a fork and knife on her plate before grabbing her coffee and heading to the table. “I’ll probably end up getting up early and doing all the baking, I think. Just because Sally really hates doing it.”

“Well, I have the scaled down versions,” he said. “Angelo would have the large batch recipes.”

“I’ll ask him for some of them tomorrow,” she said with a nod. She was about to take a bite when her phone went off. She looked at it with a frown. “It’s Sally.”

“This doesn’t bode well,” Sherlock said quietly.

Molly answered her phone. “Hello, Sally. Is something wrong?”

“No. Absolutely not. I just checked my e-mail and I got some good news.” Sally sounded absolutely delighted.

“Oh?” she asked, slightly confused. “What happened?”

“We had a mystery diner last week, one of the biggest food critics in the country. He didn’t realize we were under construction but he came anyway. And he loved us and loved the food. He said it’s well worth it to ignore the construction, and when the inn reopens people should flock there to eat the food.”

“Oh my God, really?” Molly asked, her eyes wide. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “We had a food critic as a mystery diner last week. He approved of us.”

Sherlock relaxed, giving her a grin. “Congratulations, Sally,” he said a bit more loudly.

“Tell Sherlock I said thanks,” she said with a chuckle. “Greg’s already getting people showing an interest about booking rooms when we reopen. I can’t believe it, Mols. We might actually be a huge success when everything's done.”

“I can’t believe it either,” she said with a smile on her face that her friend couldn’t see. “Congratulations.”

“I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. Especially if it involved the two of you in bed.” She paused. “Oh, God, I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

Molly chuckled. “Just breakfast.”

“Oh, good. Well, I’ll let you get back to breakfast. See you in a few days.”

“See you soon.” Molly hung up and turned her smile to Sherlock. “Did you know about the critic?”

He shook his head. “That was news to me. They usually don’t alert a business when they’re going to visit. Was he put off by the construction going on?”

“He said it should be ignored. I’ll see if Sally can forward me the e-mail so I can read the article myself. But I’ll do it later.” She picked up her fork. “I’m looking at this as a wonderful late birthday present.”

“Well, you do have one more gift at home,” he said, before eating some more food. “It should be delivered soon.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“If I tell you it won’t be a surprise,” he said with a grin.

“I can persuade you to tell me,” she said.

He looked at her. “Do you really want to know?” She nodded. “It’s too far of a walk to get from the inn to your home, and with the weather getting fouler I don’t want you getting sick. And I remembered you told me you used to have an automobile here in London but you had to sell it because it broke and you couldn’t afford to fix it.”

Her eyes got wide. “You actually bought me a car?” she asked.

“Nothing extravagant, but yes, I did. I am planning on buying one for myself as well, because you shouldn’t have to share yours and I remember just how miserable this time of year can get at home. But the attached garage at your house can hold both if we’re both there, and one of the things Reginald suggested was expanding the parking for guests. We can easily make four or five spaces available for employees. You said our new maintenance man has a car, right?”

Molly nodded. “Yeah. It was how he got from London to the village in the first place.”

“Then I’ll see if we can have that done before the new rooms open up. It will mean more money that we need to spend, but it will be best for the inn.” He looked at her intently. “Do you like the gift?”

She stood up and went over to him. He looked up at her as she leaned in and kissed him. “I love it,” she said when she pulled away. “Well, I’ll probably love it even more when I actually see it, but it’s a very considerate gift.”

“Good,” he said with a grin.

“You’re going to make it impossible for me to top this when your birthday rolls around,” she said with a laugh.

“You have about a month to plan something,” he said, pulling her down onto his lap.

“You have breakfast to eat. No getting distracted,” she said, putting her hands on his chest.

“It will keep for an hour or so,” he murmured. Molly was about to lean in to kiss him again when his phone went off. He groaned. “It’s in the bedroom.”

“I’ll go get it,” she said.

“I was thinking about ignoring it,” he said as he reluctantly let her go.

“It could be important,” she pointed out. She made her way to the bedroom. And got it, but just as she got back out to the table with it the phone stopped ringing. She handed the phone to him and he looked at his missed call and then frowned. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It was Irene,” he said. He waited for a moment and when he got the alert for his voicemail he went to check it. His frown deepened by the time he pulled his phone away from his ear. “Moriarty’s got something very big planned to hurt the inn. She knows we’re here in London and she wants to meet with us.”

“I would like it very much if he would just go away,” Molly said with a sigh.

“Let me call her back and arrange a time and place to meet.”

“Does he know where you live?” she asked

“He probably does, but this is not the same place I lived in when I was with Irene, so there is the possibility he still thinks I live elsewhere,” he said. “Why?”

“Have her come here,” Molly said. He looked at her with a look of curiosity on his face. “On the off chance he has people following her. If we meet in public her use to you as a spy is over. If she comes here and he doesn’t know this is your home you may still get some use out of her.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he said with a nod, putting the phone back to his ear. After a moment she picked up and he began to talk to her. Molly ignored the conversation as she went back to her food. Finally he hung up again. “He’s trying to find someone willing to destroy all the work put into the new rooms,” he said with a sigh. “She would have told me more but I get the feeling she thought someone was listening.”

“That’s not good,” Molly said.

“So far he does not seem to be having any luck. None of his cohorts want to travel that far away from London. If he can find someone nearby the village, though, it will be a different matter entirely.” He ran a hand over his face. “This was a complication we didn’t need.”

“When will she be here?”

“In two hours.” He looked over at her. “I’m sorry if this puts a damper on your plans for the day.”

“It’s all right. I’d rather have her come here and tell us everything she knows then go home and find all this damage done to the inn.” She picked up her coffee. “You might as well finish your food. I get the feeling you’re going to need all the fortification you can get.”

He nodded and went back to eating. When he was done she took his plate and glass to the sink along with her own. It hadn’t taken long, and Molly suggested he get dressed and go talk to the people who had helped her plan the surprise. He got dressed quickly and they left his home to go do that. There was still a half hour left when they got back, only to find Irene at the door. “Sherlock,” she said gratefully. She didn’t look her immaculate self. In fact, she looked a mess.

“Are you okay?” Molly asked, her eyes wide.

Irene shook her head. “He knows what I’ve been doing. He tried to hurt me.”

Sherlock let the three of them in. “Molly, in the cabinet above the refrigerator there’s a bottle of brandy and a glass. Get Irene a drink.” She nodded and went there while Sherlock sat Irene down at the table. He looked at her closely. “He succeeded in giving you a black eye,” he said.

“I’ll get some ice for it,” Molly said.

“Thank you,” Irene said. She was shaking slightly, and when Molly came over with the drink she took it gratefully. She took a long sip, and Molly could see she was still shaking but it was lessened when she was lowered the glass. The drink seemed to calm her a bit. “He doesn’t know I was trying to find out about the other businesses, I don’t think. I’m not sure. But he did know I was playing spy. I don’t know how he knew but he knew.” She took another sip of the drink as Molly went back to get her the ice.

“He probably knows about the other part as well,” Sherlock said as he sat down across from her.

Irene shook her head. “If he knows he didn't tell me that he knew. He only knew I had called you about the vandalism.” She looked at him. “He’s more dangerous than I imagined, and I already knew he was pretty dangerous.” She reached up and took off the scarf around her neck.

Sherlock’s eyes widened. “He tried to strangle you,” he said quietly.

“I think he was trying to kill me. And I think he could have gotten away with it.” She reached for her purse and pulled out a folder. “This was everything I got on the businesses he’s invested in that are illegal. It’s not much, but hopefully you can put it to good use.”

Sherlock nodded and took the folder as Molly came over with a bag of ice. He opened the folder and flipped through it. Once Molly had given Irene the ice she looked over his shoulder and after a moment she whistled soundlessly. “That was how he got the money to start buying the larger properties,” Molly said.

Irene nodded, putting the ice on her eye. “Yes. He had some money when he started, but not enough. But he’s not involved with most of the businesses anymore, as far as I could tell. Except this one.” She reached over and plucked a piece of paper from the file that Sherlock hadn’t gotten to yet, putting it on top. “It bills itself as a gentleman’s club, but it’s really a brothel, at the very least. There were whispers there was human trafficking going on in there, that if you were wealthy enough you could buy a girl as your slave.”

“That’s disgusting,” Molly said, making a face.

“And he still gets quite a profit from it,” Sherlock said, reading the sheet of paper. He looked up at Irene. “It’s not safe for you to be here. If he finds out you have obtained this information he’ll try to kill you again.”

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked.

“Come back with us,” Molly said. Both Irene and Sherlock looked at her sharply. “She’ll be safer at the inn where there’s five of us to keep her safe. John has the two bedroom apartment. We can ask him if he’ll let her use the other room for a while.”

“It would help keep you safe,” Sherlock said slowly as he turned to her. “if he’s having trouble finding someone to simply vandalize the inn he’ll most likely have an even harder time trying to get someone to go there to kill you.”

“I don’t have anything other than my purse and those files,” Irene said.

“You’ll have to leave your things here, but Molly can go pick some things up for you, and I can have clothing delivered here. It won’t be high end, but it will get you through until the matter is settled and it’s safe for you to return to London.”

Irene took another sip of her drink, and appeared to be thinking things over. Finally she sighed. “Very well. I’ll go with you.”

“All right. The safest bet is for me to make that purchase I mentioned earlier,” he said towards Molly. “It will be safer than trying to go on the train, and since I planned on getting one anyway it won’t be a frivolous purchase.”

“Please tell me you’re talking about an automobile,” Irene said.

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “I’ll go start making calls, and then you can pick up necessities for her, Molly.” He got up from his seat and went into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Molly sat down in his seat and looked at Irene for a moment. “I’m sorry we asked you to do this. You wouldn’t be in danger.”

“I would have been in danger soon enough even if I hadn’t,” she said, looking at the glass of brandy in her hand. She swirled the liquid around in her glass. “I think he was starting to look at me as a loose end. I knew his secrets, and he doesn’t want them getting out. His vendetta against Sherlock is getting out of hand, and he’ll go to any lengths to destroy your inn. I would probably still have been a casualty, and I wouldn’t have Sherlock here to rescue me.” She took another sip of her drink. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I come back and my home has been ransacked.”

“I wouldn’t be, either,” Molly said quietly. Then she stood up. “Have you eaten yet?”

She shook her head. “I’m not a breakfast person.”

“Let me get you something to eat,” Molly said. “There’s things from the bakery down the street, if that interests you.”

“That sounds lovely. Thank you,” Irene said with a nod. Molly went into the kitchen and got the last of the food from Angelo, putting it on a plate. She brought it out to Irene, along with some fruit. Irene put down the ice and the liquor and began to eat. The two women stayed silent until Irene had finished the food. “I didn’t expect you to be nice to me,” she said. “I expected you to hate me.”

“To be honest, I’m not even jealous,” Molly said as she went back into the kitchen to get herself some juice. “He never loved you.”

“He loves you, though,” Irene said.

“Yes, he does,” she said with a nod. “And I love him.”

Irene watched her for a moment before putting the ice back on her eye. “He’s very lucky. I have fond feelings for him, but I don’t think I ever could have loved him. And he does deserve it. I heard what he was like after our relationship ended. I honestly thought he’d spend the rest of his life alone.”

“He dated after you,” Molly pointed out.

“And not a single one of those relationships lasted more than three weeks. After a while he stopped trying.” She leaned back slightly. “It’s good to know I didn’t ruin him for another woman. The more I got to know him the more I hated what I was doing. I’ve slept with men to cajole them into turning their businesses over to Jim, but the more time I spent with him the more I liked him as a person.”

“How did he find out?” Molly asked, bringing her juice back to the table.

“I arranged for him to hear a conversation I had with Jim.” Molly’s eyes widened. “I didn’t want to tell him outright, and I figured he’d be angry at both of us, not just me.”

“Was it an in person conversation?”

Irene shook her head. “No, it was a phone conversation. That way Jim would simply think I was being careless and not realizing he was in the room. I protected both of us that way.”

“You’ve known he was dangerous for a long time,” Molly said quietly, taking a sip of her juice.

“Yes. But considering he’s blackmailing me there hasn’t been much I can do to protect myself, other than hide money in reserve for the day I could finally escape him.” She sighed. “He might escape jail time if he’s brought up on charges. He’s bought people.”

“Do you have any proof of it?”

“No,” Irene replied, shaking her head. “But if Sherlock can get people digging hopefully they’ll find proof soon enough.” She picked up the drink and took another sip as Sherlock’s bedroom door opened again. “I just hope I was able to get enough information to help.”

“You were,” Sherlock said as he came up to them. “I have a friend in Scotland Yard who told me there’s been an ongoing investigation on him for years now. They’ve never been able to find enough concrete proof. These documents will be a big help.” He stood over by Irene. “I’m going to call a personal shopper for you. Tell them what you need. Don’t worry about the cost.”

“You don’t need to help me like this,” she said, looking up at him.

“Yes, I do.” He pulled up a contact and then handed her the phone. “Go into my room. I need to talk to Molly.”

“Very well,” she said, setting down the drink and taking the phone. She hit send and put the phone to her ear as she headed towards his room.

Sherlock sat down in the seat she had vacated. “I changed my mind. I don’t want you going out alone, just in case he had eyes on Irene. The car will be delivered in three hours, fully gassed and ready to drive back to the village. I know whatever she orders will be here in the same amount of time.”

“So we’re going back today?” Molly asked.

He nodded. “It’s the safest course of action.”

“All right.” She looked at him for a moment, then moved over to him. She sat down in his lap again, and he looked up at her. “Don’t think you ruined my present. Neither of us expected this, and if she died because of what we asked her to do I’d never forgive myself. And I know you wouldn’t either.”

“You are very understanding,” he said quietly, running a hand up her back. “I am very lucky.”

“Well, it helps that I know you never loved her,” she said with a slight smile. She rested her forehead against his. “Hopefully everything she gathered will help the case against Moriarty. And then he’ll be in jail and you’ll be free of him completely, and she will too.”

“All three of us are going to go deliver it. My friend is going to meet us outside at the curb, and I’m going to hand it to him and we’re going to leave. The less time we spend in London the better.”

“Hopefully he won’t try anything before we leave,” she said.

“I will keep both of you safe. I swear,” he said. “I don’t want anything to happen to Irene, and I don’t think I could bear it if you were hurt because of this.”

“You make sure you keep yourself safe, too,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

He moved his head slightly to kiss her, and she framed his face in her hands as he tangled his fingers in her hair. There was something about this kiss that was different than the other ones they had shared, and she knew what it was: fear. There was so much more to lose now, and Moriarty could take it all away in a heartbeat. Still, she felt safe with him, and she knew he would do whatever it took to keep all of them safe. She just had to trust that it was going to be enough.


	11. Chapter 11

The three of them arrived back at the inn late in the evening. Molly hadn't expected anyone to be awake, but when the three of them walked into the inn and looked towards the dining room they saw the lights were on. They all went in that direction with their bags and saw Sally, John and Greg were all sitting there. There were mugs in front of each of them, and only John appeared to be dozing. Sherlock came through the door first. “You didn't need to wait up,” he said.

John lifted his head up and yawned slightly. “Well, we wanted to know what was going on, sooner rather than later. Figured the best way to do that was to stay up and wait for you.”

“We've put the word out we'll be closed tomorrow,” Greg said. “We weren't sure when you'd get back but we figured none of us were going to want an early day tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Molly said gratefully before yawning.

“I just made a pot of coffee about a half hour ago,” Sally said, standing up. “Do you want some?”

“Yes,” Sherlock and Molly said at nearly the same time while Irene simply nodded.

“Come back to the kitchen with me, Mols?” Sally said. Molly nodded and set her purse down on one of the tables before following Sally into the kitchen. Sally pulled down three mugs and then carried two of them to the coffeemaker. Molly picked the third one up. “You guys made very good time.”

“Sherlock drove until he was tired. I'd rested on the way so I took over and drove the rest of the way here. We wanted to get out of London as quickly as we could.”

“God, I can't believe he tried to kill her,” Sally said, shaking her head. “The man is mental.”

“Probably. But he's also desperate, and that makes him doubly dangerous.” She watched as Sally poured coffee into one of the mugs. “I'm honestly scared, Sally.”

“I am too,” Sally said quietly. “I mean, if he tried to kill her imagine what he'd do if he got his hands on one of us.”

“I've thought about it,” Molly said as a chill went through her body. Sally happened to glance at her as she answered and she ignored the coffee to hug her best friend. Molly hugged her back after a moment. Sally pulled away after a few minutes and went back to the coffee. “Do you regret coming out here?”

“Not at all,” Sally said adamantly as she poured coffee into the second mug. “He'll be taken care of and that will be the end of it.”

“I'm just worried it will get worse before it gets better,” Molly said quietly.

“I am too, but we can't live in fear. The renovations on the other rooms are almost done, and then it will be time to start having customers here again. We can't let him stop that.”

Molly nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She knew Sally was right, but she was afraid. She was more afraid now than she had ever been before in her life. She had so much more to lose now than she had had before. Sally moved away from the coffeemaker and pulled down some sugar, then went to go get milk and creamer from the refrigerator. Molly poured herself a cup of coffee and then followed Sally out once she had everything on a tray. She took it out to the others and Sherlock and Irene each took a mug, preparing their coffee. Molly pulled a chair up next to Sherlock and then made her own coffee. “Do we still want to reopen?” she asked quietly.

“The new rooms will be done in a matter of weeks, right?” John asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Sherlock nodded. “Provided everything goes according to the revised schedule we can open part of the inn in five weeks. I know things were going faster than expected but a small complication arose today, so it will be delayed by a week.” He looked at his coffee. “I don't know what we should do, to be honest. I've never been in a situation like this before. He's never gone to such lengths to get one of my businesses before.”

“He's going to do whatever he can to get this place,” Irene said quietly. “And I think he's going to get more vicious.” She looked at Sherlock and Molly. “I know you think I'm safer here, but if he comes back here we're all at risk. He has money, and he can be quite persuasive. If he can convince someone to come up here and ruin the inn or come after me or any of the rest of you there isn't much we can do to stop him.”

“He's psychotic,” Greg said, shaking his head.

“I happen to agree,” Sherlock said, a grim look on his face. He had some of his coffee. “We need to be on our guard at all times. None of us should leave this place by ourselves. If we need to go out, go with someone else.”

“That includes you, right?” Molly asked him.

He nodded. “I've already contacted the owners I'm working with here. Most of them are going to be able to run the businesses with less help from me soon anyway. They understand there's a threat to this inn and the people who work here. If they need to discuss business with me they'll come here or they'll call me.” He leaned back in his chair. “I told them to spread the word around the village. If everyone here is aware that someone means to do us harm we'll have quite a few extra eyes watching out for trouble.”

“We shouldn't have to hole up here, though,” John said. “I mean, he's dangerous, but if we let him keep us trapped here he wins.”

“I'm not going to have him harm any of you,” Sherlock said adamantly. “For right now we need to be on guard and spend as much time here as we can.”

“We probably shouldn't reopen quite yet,” Molly said quietly. “At least until we know he can't hurt us. If we have people staying here and he attempts to do something no one will ever feel safe here. It will ruin our reputation.”

“That's a fair point,” Greg said. “And if nothing else the extra time will give Molly a chance to get more training under her belt, and Sally will have a change to learn the new kitchen. And we were planning on shutting down the kitchen and dining room soon so the contractors could finish the new dining room and start on the new foyer. If we start now it shouldn't hurt us too badly, especially if everyone here knows why.”

“Then it's agreed that we don't reopen?” Sherlock asked, and he got nods and murmurs of agreement from everyone. He turned to Molly last, and she nodded as well. “Very well. I'll make sure the construction is finished on time, but we will remain closed until there is no longer a threat.”

“When is the kitchen going to be done?” Sally asked.

“In a few weeks,” Sherlock said. “Why?”

“I still want to feed the workers. Even if it's just sandwiches and soup, most of them rely on us being open for lunch and dinner. They're here anyway and it wouldn't feel right turning them away.”

He thought for a moment, then turned to Molly. “Do you have any objections, Molly?”

“No. Keeping the kitchen open for the workers sounds fine,” she said. She sipped her coffee. “I hate this, I really do.”

“We all do,” Greg said. “This is our livelihood. Without this I don't know what we'll do.”

“I'll make sure the inn remains standing and undamaged, and all of us keep our jobs here,” Sherlock said. “No one will be turned out because of this.”

“What about Mrs. Hudson and Jacob?” Molly asked. “Are they going to be safe staying in the village?”

“They'll probably be safer there than we are here,” Sherlock said after a moment. “But we'll tell Jacob to pick Mrs. Hudson up each morning and bring her here in his car, and take her home as well. I'll put more into his paycheque to cover the extra cost for petrol and his time. We'll tell them what's going on in the morning so they're prepared.”

“They both kind of know already,” Sally said. “We couldn't keep it from them.”

“And it's probably best that you didn't,” Irene said. “For all we know Jim has found someone and they're on their way here. If they know there's a more significant threat then they're prepared.”

“That is a fair point,” Sherlock said. “There isn't much else we can do tonight. I propose we adjourn to our rooms and try and get some rest.”

“Actually, John and I were going to take turns staying up, keeping an eye on things,” Greg said. “It's been a long day for you three, so we figured we would let you sleep. Tomorrow we can work you into the rotation, Sherlock.”

“That's a good idea,” he replied with a nod. “Who's staying up first?”

“I am,” Greg said. “Since Irene is staying with John we figured that he should help get her settled in and get a bit of rest. I'll get him in a few hours.”

“We've run on very little sleep before,” John replied. “We can handle it for a while, especially if we aren't reopening any time soon. We can rest during the day.”

“Very well,” Sherlock said. He finished his coffee and stood up. “Let's head upstairs and try and get some sleep.”

“There's still coffee in the pot,” Sally told Greg as she stood up. “And leftover food in case you get hungry.”

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a grin. Then he looked at John. “I'll wake you up at four or so.”

John nodded. “Works for me.” Then he stood and looked at Irene. “Which bags are yours?”

“Those two,” she said, pointing to the bags Sherlock had carried in for her. John went over and picked them up. “I can help.”

“It's all right,” he said, giving her a grin. “Come on. You look like you could use some rest.”

“Thank you,” she said.

With that the two of them left the dining room, Sally right behind them. Molly finished her coffee and stood up, going over to her suitcase. She went to pick it up but Sherlock got it first. “It's not that heavy,” she said with a small smile.

“I know, but I don't mind carrying it.” He went and picked up his own bag and the two of them made their way out to the foyer. “Where do you want to sleep tonight?”

“My place,” she said. He nodded and they began to make their way up the stairs. “I hate this whole situation, Sherlock. I hate being afraid,” she said quietly once they got on them.

“I am not particularly pleased right now either,” he said. “But there isn't much else we can do. He's a dangerous threat and we need to treat him as such.”

“He scares me,” she replied. “Like, scares me to the core.”

“I won't let him hurt you or anyone else here,” he said. “And I won't let him take away this inn from you.”

“But how can you stop him?” she asked.

“I don't know. But I'll find a way.”

She stayed quiet as they made their way up to the third floor. She could see Sally letting herself into her apartment and then she turned to her own door. She dug out her key and let them in. Sherlock set their luggage in the sitting room and he moved over to the sofa. She sat down next to him and pulled her legs up under her, resting her head on his shoulder. “I'm scared he'll come after you directly,” she said quietly as he put an arm around her shoulders. “That he'll find a way to physically hurt you, or worse.”

“If he wanted to inflict pain on me he'd go after you,” he said quietly. “I suppose the blunt way of putting it is that you're my weakness. If he hurts you then that will hurt me more than any physical injury he could give me. And I think he knows that by now.”

“Here we are, each worried about him hurting the other one,” she said.. “If it wasn't such a dire situation I might be amused.”

“I know,” he said. “I can't tell what his next move will be. I never expected him to try and kill Irene. He's unstable, at the very least, and completely unpredictable, which makes him vastly more dangerous than I would like.”

“If it comes down to keeping us safe or keeping the inn safe, concentrate on keeping us safe. We can always fix anything he does. We can't replace anyone if he decides to severely hurt one of us, or worse.” She lifted her head up and looked at him, and after a moment he turned to face her. “I love everyone here like family. I don't want to lose any more family.”

“You won't lose anyone,” he said, moving his arm from around her shoulders to caress her face gently. “I'll make sure of it.” Then he pulled his hand away. “We should try and get some rest. It's been a long drive.”

“All right,” she said with a nod. She stood up and he did the same a moment later. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and wheeled it into her bedroom as he grabbed his bag and carried it in behind her. She watched him open up his bag and pull out something to sleep in. She took the shirt of his she'd stolen out of her suitcase and changed into it. She'd unpack the rest in the morning but right now she was exhausted. Once they were ready they got into bed and he pulled her against him. Nearly the minute she shut her eyes she was asleep.

It felt like it was a short time later when she woke up, but there was daylight coming in through her window. She could still feel Sherlock's arm locked around her waist, and she stretched slightly as she glanced at her clock. They'd been asleep for nearly eight hours, she realized. She rolled over onto her other side to turn and face him. Even with as stressed as she knew he was he looked peaceful in his sleep. She looked at him for a few moments before he started to wake up. She could feel him tighten his hold on her as his eyes fluttered open. “You're still here,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding slightly. “I wanted to enjoy some more time next to you before you woke up.”

“Then I'm sorry I woke up,” he said with a slight grin.

“It's all right,” she said. “I kind of just want to stay in bed all day and ignore everything, but I know we can't do that.”

“I feel the same way,” he said. “It would be nice not to have this extra worry.”

“We can hide out for a little bit, though,” she said. “I don't think we have any pressing business right now.”

“What do you propose we do?” he asked, pulling her closer. She leaned in and kissed him in response. After a moment he deepened the kiss before rolling them over so she was on her back and he was hovering over her. He pulled away from the kiss and looked down at her. “I like that suggestion,” he said with a grin.

“I thought you might,” she said, placing her hands on his chest. She moved her hands up and pulled him in for another kiss before sliding her hands back to his shoulders. He pulled away from the kiss and then looked at her intently. “Sherlock? Are you okay?” she asked, slightly concerned.

“Marry me,” he said quietly.

She stared at him, her eyes wide. “What?”

He hung his head slightly. “I'm sorry. That was too soon.”

“Wait a moment,” she said, sitting up slightly. He moved from on top of her, going over to sit up. She turned to look at him. “You really want to marry me? I mean, are you actually proposing right now? Or are you asking me to do it in the future?”

“I am making a complete hash of this,” he said dejectedly.

“No, I'm just surprised,” she said. “I mean, it kind of came out of nowhere.”

“I am asking you to marry me. It's not much of a proposal, but it is a proposal,” he said. “I thought about it long and hard on the drive back here. I would have asked last night but we were both tired. And I'm sorry if it seems rushed. It probably is, knowing my luck.”

“Yes,” she said with a nod.

“Pardon?” he asked, confused. “Yes, it's too soon or yes, you'll marry me?”

“Yes, I'll marry you,” she said, giving him a wide smile. “I mean, it's a _little_ fast, but it's what I wanted eventually anyway. We could always have a long engagement, I suppose.”

“I don't have a ring,” he said, giving her a grin in return. “Which probably wasn't smart of me. And I honestly should have given you a better proposal.”

“It's all right,” she said, leaning over and hugging him. “You can give me both later.”

He held her close for a long while. When he finally pulled away from her he looked at her intently. “When this is all over, when this threat isn't looming over our heads, I would like to do it all properly. In full view of everyone.”

“I don't know,” she said in a slightly teasing tone. “I kind of like this very intimate proposal.” She placed her hands on his chest. “You don't need to do much more than tell me why you want to marry me.”

“You are the first woman I've ever considered having any sort of future with,” he said, moving his hand up to caress her cheek. “You're the first woman I'd ever say I've loved. And I don't want you not to be here, not to be in my life. There are practical reasons as well, but those aren't important. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you. You want forever with me, and I want to give that to you.”

“Oh, that was a lovely proposal,” she said with a nod. She could feel herself tearing up slightly. “I'm glad I said yes.”

“I didn't do that in a typical fashion,” he said with a chuckle.

“No, you didn't, but that's okay.” She leaned in and kissed him softly. She pulled away just as he began to deepen the kiss, and he gave her a slightly quizzical look. “As much as I want to continue what we were doing, I just realized I'm starving.”

He laughed at that. “I'll feed you, then.” He pushed the covers the rest of the way off of him as she did the same, and they got out of bed. When he got around to her side of the bed he pulled her close against him and kissed her again, though much more quickly than she would normally have liked. “I'm glad you said yes.”

“Well, I wasn't going to say no,” she said with a smile. She pulled away from him and made her way out to the kitchen, beginning to make coffee. “Did you think I was going to say no?”

“I realized it might have been a possibility, if you thought it might have been too fast. But with the conversations we'd had I figured there was a better chance you would say yes than no.” He watched her for a moment before he began trying to figure out what to make them for breakfast. “I've been thinking about it for a few days now, but I started really thinking about it yesterday. I suppose there is something to be said about thinking you can lose someone to push you to make a life changing decision.”

“You aren't going to lose me, remember?” she said gently, pausing in what she was doing. “You're going to keep me safe. And I'm going to do everything I can to do the same for you. I want you nice and healthy for whenever we get married.” She paused. “Which I'd much rather have be sooner than later, actually.”

He looked at her. “How soon?”

“I don't know. But I don't think we need a long engagement, do you? I mean, everyone is going to say we're rushing things, so we might want to wait a little bit, but probably no more than six months? We'll have been together nearly a year at that point.”

“I could agree to that,” he said with a grin.

“Good,” she said with an answering smile. “You know, I think I might end up smiling so widely today I'll hurt the corners of my mouth.”

“I think everyone will see us smiling and wonder what's wrong with us, considering everything,” he said with a chuckle. “But despite everything I'm in quite the good mood right now. I don't think--”

She held up her hand. “Don't finish that sentence. You'll jinx things.”

“Well, then I'll keep that thought to myself.”

“Good.” She went back to preparing the coffee, and he began pulling food out to prepare for them. He began cooking for them soon and she stayed quiet, watching him work. She was going to marry him. He actually wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and he wanted to make it legal. She definitely hadn't expected all of this, but she was beyond pleased by the turn of events. She'd make sure he knew exactly how pleased soon enough, but she realized getting something to eat had been the best course of action when her stomach began to grumble. He cast her a look with an amused grin. “I told you I was starving,” she said with a chuckle.

“Apparently,” he said before turning back to the food. “It's almost ready.”

“That's good,” she said with a nod. She picked up her coffee and took a sip. She had made him a cup as well and he had been drinking it as he cooked. “What did you make, anyway?”

“You seem to like my omelets so I made those, and there is also fruit.” He went back to her refrigerator for a moment. “And you seem to have enough orange juice left for one of us to have a glass.”

“Do you want it?” she asked.

He nodded. “I would.”

“Go ahead and have it then. I think I have apple juice to tide me over until I can get some more.”

He went back to check on the food, and after he put it on a plate he went to her cabinet and got a glass before going back to the refrigerator. He poured himself the glass of juice, then brought it and one of the plates over to the stools. He set the plate in front of her and the juice in front of the other stool. Then he went back for the second plate and their utensils. Once they were settled they began to eat, staying relatively quiet. When they were done he took all the dishes and set them in the sink. “We should probably go downstairs now,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” she said with a nod. “Let's go get dressed and see if anything happened last night that we need to know about.”

“I doubt anything happened. If it had Lestrade or Watson would have come to get us immediately. But perhaps Mrs. Hudson and Jacob are here and I can inform them of the decisions we made last night. And I'm sure you'd like to share the good news.”

She stood up and when he got close enough she kissed him quickly. “I would,” she said with a smile.

He pulled her against him and kept her close, and she moved her hands up until her arms were around his neck. “I'll get you a ring soon,” he murmured.

“You don't need to rush,” she said with a smile.

“But you should have one.”

She leaned in and kissed him again, a longer kiss this time. “If you really want to that's fine,” she said when she pulled away from him.

“I do,” he said with a nod.

“All right.” He kept holding her close, and after a moment she slid her hands back to his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I just want to burn this into my memory,” he said quietly. “Your smile, what it feels like to hold you close, what it's like to kiss you. I want to have that memory and never let it go.”

She nodded, understanding completely. He was worried he might lose her. If anything did happen to her, if he lost her for good, he would want to remember all of this, remember a time when he was in love and had been loved in return. She didn't want to think about anything happening like that, but she thought the same thing about him. She wanted to remember it all, keep it close to her heart, just in case it all ended in the worst way possible. She leaned in to kiss him again and got lost in the kiss, trying to burn it into her memory as well. If she did, then she would always keep a part of him close, and she wanted to do that very much.


	12. Chapter 12

Their friends took the news of their engagement with little surprise, which made Molly smile. They had all rather expected to hear that particular bit of news fairly soon. John had said they were even considering placing bets, and if they had Sally would have made a decent sum of money. Molly had swatted at his shoulder but laughed all the same. Sally brought out a bottle of champagne and they all toasted to it. Even Irene joined in, and she seemed genuinely happy for the two of them. Molly was thankful for that, because she wasn't sure she could have handled living in the same place as her if she held ill will towards them.

A few days after he proposed Sherlock surprised her with a ring. He had slipped it on her finger while she was sleeping, and she had responded by not letting him leave the bed for an hour afterward. It was quite beautiful, having a large diamond with small emeralds around it and smaller emeralds on part of the band. He had told her it was an heirloom, part of the jewelry that Catherine had received from her own family that had been in her family for many generations, passed down to the daughters. She had been surprised that he had given her something that old with that much sentimental value attached to it, but the fact that it had a history had made her very happy. Sally and Irene had thought the ring was perfect for her, and she happened to agree.

Yet while her personal life was going well other things weighed heavily on her mind. Moriarty didn't make a move immediately, and the longer he waited the more Molly worried. If he was biding his time she was sure he was coming up with all sorts of awful things to do to the inn and the people who lived there. But worrying was starting to fray on her nerves so she threw herself back into training to run the inn. She was starting to get the hang of everything Greg and Mrs. Hudson were teaching her, and she found she was getting many more signs of approval for the solutions she was coming up with than she had in the month and a half prior.

Irene had surprised all of them by pitching in to help. She mostly spent her time in the kitchen, and while at first no one had really thought Irene would be much of a help Sally had said she was quite handy there. Molly was able to concentrate on other things because of it. The delay in reopening meant there were more hassles to deal with, but Sherlock was handling most of that when he wasn't having meetings with the other business owners he was helping. The second restaurant barely needed his help these days, and the market was almost on its way back to running without him. All that was left was the pub, and that would be ready within about three weeks, he thought.

It had been two weeks after they had returned that Molly felt a bit cooped up. Sherlock noticed and suggested they drive to her home to see how things were going. He had not gone to check without her, not wanting to leave her alone at the inn, but the contractor had been sending him updates over his phone and he had said everything was coming along well. She found she was nervous, though. It was one thing to be told things were going well, but it was a whole other thing to go see it for yourself. He let her out by the truck the contractor drove while he put the car in the garage, and she waited for him. It was very cold and she was glad they had driven there.

He came back up to her, a wide grin on his face. “You look remarkably happy,” she said, glancing at him.

“Something I was expecting will be here soon,” he said. “There had been a delay but it is arriving shortly.”

“How soon?”

“About twenty minutes.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “I'll be in soon. Go see the progress without me.”

“All right.” She made her way inside and stared. It looked so much better. Yes, all the furniture was out of place, but as she looked down at the floors she saw they brought a warmth to the place that wasn't there the last few times she had been there. The contractor looked up and gave her a grin, asking her if she wanted a tour. She nodded, and he took her to each room, showing her all of the improvements. She looked at everything closely, approving of every modification, and after a half hour Sherlock joined her. She stayed in the master bedroom for a moment as Sherlock talked to him. Suddenly she got hit with a wave of nausea. “Is the washroom working?” she asked, putting a hand over her mouth.

“Yes,” Sherlock said with a frown. “Why?”

“I feel sick.” She stood up and bolted towards the washroom. She knelt down in front of the loo and within seconds the entire contents of her stomach were in the bowl. This was not the first time this had happened recently, but other than that she didn't feel sick. She hadn't been concerned, but now she was thinking perhaps she should be. She panted after a moment, hopeful that it was over, and then she stood up, taking one of the washcloths that were nearby and going to the sink to wet it. She wiped her mouth, glad she had made it in time. When she turned she saw Sherlock in the doorway. “I'm sorry if I alarmed you,” she said, setting the washcloth on the sink.

“Has this happened a lot lately?” he asked quietly.

“Once or twice the last three days,” she said. “Why?”

He was quiet for a moment. “We haven't always been careful.”

Her eyes widened. Pregnant? Did he think she might be pregnant? There was no possible way, she thought to herself. “I've been on birth control,” she said quietly.

“It's not one hundred percent reliable,” he said, moving closer to her.

“I can't be pregnant,” she groaned, looking down. “I can't. Not with all of this going on. I just...I _can't_. It's too dangerous right now.”

“Molly,” he said gently, moving to stand in front of her. He placed a hand on each shoulder, and when she wouldn't look up he moved one hand to tilt her face up. “If you are we will deal with it. We'll find out if you are, first, and if you are then we'll make plans.”

“But right now is the worst possible time,” she said.

“If you are pregnant I would actually be thrilled,” he said quietly. She looked at him sharply. “You've already agreed to marry me, and you did mention you want children. I thought you wanted it as well.”

“I did. I do. But I'm scared,” she said, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath. She had to calm down. “If I am, what are we going to do?”

“I don't know. Continue as we have been, most likely. After all, we're already planning on getting married.” He paused, looking at her. “Though if it's after the child's born that's fine as well. I'll leave that decision more up to you.” He reached over for her. “Does that sound good to you?”

“I suppose,” she admitted. “But it's not what we need right now. I mean, if I am I'll be happy, eventually, but then I'll be an even bigger target for Moriarty to hurt.”

“I won't let him hurt you or the baby if you are pregnant,” he said, tightening his embrace slightly. “But let's find out if you are first. Do you have a pregnancy test at home?” She nodded. “Then we'll go there now and find out.”

“But what about all this?” she said, gesturing to the workers in her home.

“Everything seems to be going exceedingly well. They can do without us again. This is vastly more important.” He let go of her and offered her his hand. “I almost forgot. Your other gift is what arrived this morning. Let me show you.” 

“The car is here?” she asked, a smile on her face.

He nodded. “I was going to have it be taken to the inn but I had it brought here since we were here. I'm sorry it took so long, but something was wrong with the first car. It took some time to arrange for a different one with the specifications I wanted.” He led her out of the home and over to the garage. He unlocked it and let them inside. Inside next to his car was a decent sized car with four seats, and as Molly got a closer look she saw it was purple. She moved towards it more and looked inside. She put her hands over her mouth as she walked around it. It was absolutely perfect, she realized. “Do you like it?” he asked.

“This is wonderful,” she said with a nod as she removed her hands. “Oh, thank you, Sherlock. Thank you so much.” She came over and kissed him softly, but then she pulled away quickly. “Do you have the keys?”

He dangled them in front of her, a grin on his face. “Right here.” He lowered them into her outstretched hand. “Why don't you drive us home? The sooner we find out the better.”

“Yes,” she said. She got into the driver's side and put the key in the ignition. She turned the key and the car started, and she smiled widely. “Oh, I love it,” she said as Sherlock got in on the passenger side.

“You'll enjoy driving it down here more once I have the driveway paved over,” he said. “But go ahead. Drive us home.”

“What about your car?” she asked with a frown.

“We can come back and get it later,” he said with a slight shrug. “You should at least get to see if the car handles well.”

Molly nodded and then looked behind her, putting the car in reverse. She backed out of the garage and out onto the driveway, and then she turned the car around and drove away from her home. The car handled quite well and she found her grin to be so wide she thought the corners of her mouth might crack. She drove them to the village and then all the way to the inn, parking in one of the slots in front of the inn. “That was wonderful!” she exclaimed, going over to Sherlock and giving him a hug. “It drives so well, so much better than my old car.”

“I'm glad you like it,” he said as he hugged her back. He let go of her and nodded towards the inn. “Let's go upstairs and see what's going on with you.”

“All right,” she said with a nod. He reached over for her hand and she grasped it, and they made their way to the top floor of the inn. Molly let them into her apartment and she went into the bathroom, getting the pregnancy test she had bought a few months ago. She had bought two of them the last time she had a scare and had only used one. She opened it up and followed the instructions before shaking it and going out to the sitting room. Sherlock was pacing and he looked up when she came out. “Well?” he asked anxiously.

“It's not time yet,” she said. She set the test on the counter and they both stood around it, waiting. Finally, after a minute, a line started to appear. She looked at the box it had come in. “Two lines means I'm pregnant, one means I'm not.” She looked at him, afraid to look at the test. “How many lines?”

“I clearly see two lines,” he said quietly. “Look for yourself.”

She hesitantly leaned over and looked. There were two very dark blue lines on the test. “So I'm probably pregnant,” she said quietly.

“Are you all right with this?” he asked just as softly.

“It's going to take some time to wrap my head around,” she said. “I'm still kind of scared because of the whole Moriarty situation, but I suppose I'm happy about things. I mean, I'm not upset at any rate.”

He moved over to her and turned her so she was facing him. “I worry too, but if you are this can only be a good thing. I'd like confirmation first, however. Do you have a physician here yet?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“Make an appointment and find out for sure. Then we can make plans.”

“All right.” She moved to her purse and pulled her cell phone out of it before moving away to make her call. After a few minutes she moved back to Sherlock. “She can see me in ten minutes.”

“That was fairly quick,” he said, surprised.

“She had a cancellation.” She looked at him. “Do you want to come with me?”

“I would like to,” he said with a nod. “If you are pregnant, I'd like to be there when it's confirmed.”

“Okay.” She reached over for his hand again and they made their way back downstairs and down to the car. She drove them to the other side of the village and parked in front of the office. Then they got out and made their way inside. They were ushered into an examination room a few minutes later, and her doctor came in. Molly was still a bit in shock, but she answered the doctor's questions and then held out her arm for the doctor to draw blood. Then the doctor had her go into the bathroom the pee in a cup. It took a bit more time for that, but finally she had the sample and she gave it to her doctor. Her doctor excused herself, leaving Sherlock and Molly in the room by themselves. “Do you really want me to be pregnant?” she asked. “Be honest.”

“Yes,” he said. “I would very much like it if you are pregnant, even with the threat over our heads. Do you want to be pregnant?”

“I'm leaning towards yes,” she said, relaxing slightly. “Would you be terribly upset if I said I wanted to wait until after the baby was born to get married?”

He shook his head. “That's fine. I mean, there may be a few people who raise an eyebrow about us having a child out of wedlock, but their opinions matter very little to me.” He paused. “We do need to talk about where we want to live, though. Between us we have three residences. We should consolidate into one.”

“Where do you want to live?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“I believe with the improvements to your childhood home that would be the best place. We can keep your apartment in case we need to stay overnight at the inn, but generally I think the house is best. It's bigger.”

“How long are the renovations going to take?”

“Another week,” he said. “If we want to have professionals come in and repaint everything it might be a few more weeks. It's up to you if you want to go that route or still do it ourselves.”

“It might be best if we have someone else do it. I'm terrified I'll mess up the new floors,” she said.

“Then we can talk to someone about coming in and doing it for us,” he said with a nod.

“Then I guess we're going to be changing residences,” she said with a smile. Then it faltered slightly. “Is it going to be safe to move there with everything going on?”

He thought for a moment. “Probably not right away. Once Moriarty is no longer a threat it will be fine. But right now we would be too far away for help to get to us in time if he tried to do something. And at the moment I would prefer to stay at the inn to keep an eye on it.”

“That's what I thought,” she said. “I just hope he doesn't do anything to it. Everything is coming along well. It's becoming a place I actually want to live in again. If something happened to it I'd be quite upset.”

“I would be, too,” he said. “I'll see about keeping someone there to keep an eye on the place. Somebody we can trust.”

“That would make me feel better,” she said with a nod. Then she was quiet for a moment. “We keep talking about me being pregnant, but what if I'm not?”

“Well, you still want to marry me, right?” he asked. She nodded. “Then we'll be more careful and wait until after we're married for you to try and have children. I don't mind waiting if you aren't pregnant right now.”

“I can't do anything about it if I am now, but if I'm not I'd like to try and wait. Just until we're settled and this whole mess with Moriarty is over. I'll feel better about it then.”

“But if you are pregnant, you'll be happy?” he asked.

She got off the exam table and went to stand in front of him. “Yes,” she said. “I'm not going to be like my mother was. I will want this child, and I will love this child with all my heart. It may have been unplanned, but I will never _ever_ think of our child as a mistake.”

He stood up and framed her face in his hands. “I never doubted that for a moment,” he said quietly. “You will be a better mother than your own mother was.”

“I'm glad you know that,” she said. She moved her head and rested it on his chest. He held her close and they were still like that when the doctor came back into the exam room. “I take it it's good news?” he asked. Molly turned her head to look at her, seeing she had a grin on her face.

“You're around six weeks pregnant, Molly,” she said, handing her the test results. “I want to refer you to the local OB/GYN and have you talk to her. There are a few other pregnant women in the village right now so she's a tad bit busy, but she can probably squeeze you in this week. For now I want you to start taking prenatal vitamins. I'll write you a prescription.”

“All right,” Molly said with a nod.

The doctor began to write the prescription and Molly turned back to Sherlock, who lowered his head slightly so his mouth was near her ear. “This coincides with the last time we were at your home, I think. Or at some point around then.”

Molly chuckled and swatted him with the test results. “Does it matter?”

“No, not really,” he said, pulling away.

“Are you really happy?” she asked.

He nodded. “I am. Are you?”

“I'm getting there.” She definitely was not upset, and she knew the more time she spent getting used to the idea that she was going to have a child in seven and a half months the more she would look forward to it. It did feel a bit rushed, but every other part of her relationship with Sherlock had moved at a fast clip and so she really shouldn't have been surprised that this did as well. And in all honesty she was already planning on spending the rest of her life with him. Having a child come before marriage would be okay, she realized. 

Sherlock turned to the doctor. “Thank you,” he said.

“Yes, thank you,” Molly said as well.

She smiled at Molly. “I think your grandmother would have been very happy for the both of you. I know many people who live here will be, at least.”

“I think she would have been as well,” Molly said with a smile.

“Get the prescription filled as soon as you can and then make an appointment with the doctor. Her name is on the test results. That might take some time, but it will be worth it. She can answer any questions you might have.”

“I will,” Molly said with a nod.

“Congratulations once again.” With that, the doctor left, and Molly and Sherlock followed shortly. Molly took the papers in one hand and held out her other hand to Sherlock. He grasped it and they left the office, walking back out to the car. “Who should we tell first?” she asked as she unlocked the driver's side.

“Probably our friends. I imagine they'll be quite happy for us. Then my family. I will probably start with my grandmothers since we're supposed to have dinner with them tomorrow. I'll tell my mother and father afterward.”

“Will they be happy?” she asked nervously.

“I think they will. They may all say it's a bit fast, but I think they would all love a new generation added to the family. And I think those that don't know you yet will welcome you into the family with open arms. They've seen the personality changes since I began dating you and they like them. So don't worry too much.”

“Have you told them we're engaged yet?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not my parents, but I did tell my grandmothers. I also told them not to tell my parents yet.”

“Why not?” she asked with a frown.

“I wanted to tell them in person,,” he said. “They want to meet you soon, and I figured it would be best to tell them when they were here.”

She shook her head. “You should tell them before they come up here, especially if Catherine and Annabelle already know.”

He thought about it a moment, then nodded slowly. “I suppose you're right.” They got to the car and she let them in. “I'll call them when we get home.”

“That would be best.” She got out of the parking area and made their way back to her old home so Sherlock could get his car, then they drove back to the inn. Molly locked her car and turned on the alarm as Sherlock did the same. When he got close to her she gave him a grin. “Are your grandmothers coming here for dinner tomorrow?”

He nodded. “I'm cooking for the four of us. They know what is going on with Moriarty so they know we don't want to leave the inn very much. I told my parents about him as well, and while they're concerned they are confident I can resolve the problem. They're probably more confident than I am about the situation.”

“Well, your friend at Scotland Yard said the investigation has gotten a new breath of life, right?” she asked.

He was quiet for a moment. “He called me as we were driving back from your home. The investigation is going well, but there's been a complication.”

“Oh?” she asked.

“The problem is Moriarty seems to have gone underground. He's not here at the village, or else we'd know about it, but he isn't anywhere in London as far as the police can tell. They've told us to be on our guard, but there isn't much else we can do about it until he resurfaces.”

She frowned. “That wasn't news I wanted to hear.”

“That wasn't what I wanted to hear either.” He reached over for her hand and grasped it. “We need to tell the others that news, see what other precautions we can take.”

“All right,” she said with a nod. “At least we have some good news to tell them as well.”

“Yes, there is that,” he said with a nod. Then he inclined his head towards the inn. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.” They made their way inside and were greeted by Mrs. Hudson. “Hello,” Molly said brightly.

“Hello, dears,” Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. “Was it my imagination, or have the two of you been back here already?”

“We were here for a short time,” Sherlock said with a nod. “Is everyone else here?”

“Everyone other than Jacob. He had to go get a few supplies from farther away. He'll be back here at the inn with them tomorrow.”

Sherlock groaned slightly. “I completely forgot about that. I suppose I'll tell him the news when he returns, or over the phone.”

“What news is that?” she asked.

“We'd like to tell everyone at once,” Molly said.

“Everyone else is in the kitchen. Sally's doing inventory with Irene, and John is busy preparing lunch for us. Greg was keeping them company.” Mrs. Hudson frowned. “Is it bad news?”

“Some of it is, but there's good news too.”

“All right.” She came around from the front desk. “I hope the good news has to do with Moriarty being in jail. Or better yet, he was found floating in the Thames.”

Sherlock looked surprised. “I never expected that from you,” he said.

“He's a thorn in your side, and he's dangerous. It would be best for the world at large if he was dead.” The three of them began to walk towards the kitchen. “How bad is the bad news?”

“It's troubling,” Sherlock said. “But it's also not dire. Or at least it might not be. Scotland Yard is working on fixing that particular problem.”

“That's good,” Mrs. Hudson said with a nod. “And the good news. It's very good?”

Sherlock glanced at Molly. “I would say so, yes,” he said.

Molly grinned. “It's very good news.”

Mrs. Hudson looked at her shrewdly. “You're pregnant, aren't you?”

Both Sherlock and Molly stopped in their tracks. “How did you know?” Molly asked, surprised.

“I've had children. You can always tell,” she said with a smile. “Plus I saw you bolt to the washroom twice yesterday, and once the day before that. I doubted it was the flu, and no one who cooks food here would give you food poisoning, so that was the only alternative left.”

“I wonder if anyone else has guessed,” Sherlock said with a sigh.

“I doubt it,” Mrs. Hudson said with a chuckle. “And I won't spoil the surprise. But congratulations, both of you.” She went over and hugged Molly first, then Sherlock. “An engagement and a pregnancy so close together. It's going to be very interesting for the both of you,” she said when she pulled away.

“The wedding comes after I've had the baby,” Molly said with a chuckle.

“That's probably a very smart move,” Mrs. Hudson said with a nod. “And it's not like it was in my day to have a child out of wedlock, not that it stopped me.”

“You had your child out of wedlock?” Sherlock asked, surprised. “Which one?”

“My first,” she said. “My first husband was off fighting in some foreign country, and even though we were engaged it was still frowned upon. He couldn't return to marry me before I had our son, so my first son was born three weeks before I got married. I'm quite lucky my parents and his parents didn't try and force me to get rid of the child. I love my son very much. I did lose my post over it, though, even though my employer liked me. For propriety's sake, of course. But she would give me money every month anyway, just to make sure I was taken care of. She was a wonderful woman.”

“I'm glad it's not that way anymore,” Molly said.

“It was hard, and there was a bit of stigma around it for us, but we weathered through. You'll do the same.” She began to walk again. “I think everyone else should know sooner rather than later, don't you?”

“Of course,” Sherlock said with a nod. He and Molly began to follow here, and within a few minutes they were in the dining area. Mrs. Hudson and Molly waited in the dining room as Sherlock went into the kitchen to get the others. Soon the five of them emerged from the kitchen and Sherlock looked at them. “I'll start with the bad news first, I suppose. Moriarty has gone to ground. As far as Scotland Yard can tell, there's no trace of him in London.”

“No trace of him whatsoever?” Greg asked with a frown. Sherlock nodded. “That's not good.”

“No, it's not,” Sherlock said. “He's not here in the village, though, so there is that.”

“I may be able to help your friends Scotland Yard,” Irene said. “There were a few times Jim crossed people who caused some trouble for him. I can tell them places they might want to observe to see if he's hiding out there.”

“That would help them immensely,” he replied. “As it stands, the piece of advice I got was to be on our guard. We are already, but we should be doubly alert now.”

“Would it help if we were armed?” John asked. “Because Greg and I do both own guns, and we have permits for them.”

“I never knew that,” Molly said, surprised.

“I was in the military for a few years before I came here,” John said with a nod. “And Greg has had one ever since someone tried to break in here ten years ago.”

Greg nodded as well. “It scared your grandmother quite a bit. She knew I was familiar with firearms so she asked if I would do the training and paperwork necessary to own one. I did it without question to help give her peace of mind.”

“I have one as well,” Irene said. Everyone turned to her. She shrugged slightly. “I've been around some very dangerous people in the course of my time working for Jim. If I'd been able to get it out of my purse we might have had an entirely different outcome that day when he attacked me. As it stood, I was too far away from it at the time. And I was so scared I didn't think to just shoot him when I finally was able to grab my purse.”

“It probably wouldn't hurt to keep them close,” Sherlock said after a moment's thought. “I know how to use one myself, if we can keep one nearby me.”

“Well, I have two,” John said. “I can loan you one for now.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said with a nod. “I hope I don't have to use it, but if it's nearby I'll feel better.”

“I hate that we even have to think about all this,” Sally said quietly as she leaned in towards Molly.

“Trust me, I feel the same way,” she said with a slight nod. She turned her attention to Sherlock. “You're going to show me how to use it, right?”

“I can,” he said with a nod. “We can practice at the house.”

“All right,” she replied.

“Is there any other bad news?” Sally asked. Molly and Sherlock shook their heads. “Then can we hear the good news? Because I think we need something to cheer us up.”

Sherlock looked over to Molly and nodded. She turned to the others. “Well, I went to the doctor's today because I'd been feeling ill, and she told me I'm a month and a half pregnant.”

Everyone except Mrs. Hudson looked surprised. Sally recovered first and hugged her friend. “Oh, that really is good news! Congratulations, sweetie.”

“Thank you,” she said, hugging her back.

“That must have come as a shock,” John said, though he now had a wide grin on his face. He moved over to hug her as Sally moved to hug Sherlock, which surprised him. “Congratulations to both of you.”

“Yeah. That's excellent news,” Greg said, moving to shake Sherlock's hand when Sally got done hugging him.

“Are you two happy?” Irene asked them.

“Yes,” Molly said, nodding.

Irene gave them a smile. “Then I'm happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said as John came over to shake his head and Greg moved to hug Molly. Molly moved back over towards him when the two men were done. “When the whole situation with Moriarty is taken care of Molly and I will be moving into her old home. For now it isn't safe enough for us to be that far away from the village, but both of our apartments are too small to raise a child in.”

“That's understandable,” John said. “I know Molly's apartment is the largest, but it's still only one bedroom. Once Molly's mother moved out Marguerite didn't need the second bedroom, and she had always liked the apartment she kept more.”

“We can take care of anything that might come up here,” Greg said with a nod. “And I'm fairly sure Jacob would probably want one of the apartments here as opposed to staying in the village.”

“Well, I'm quite happy in my home, so he can have it,” Mrs. Hudson said with a smile.

“You didn't seem surprised by their news,” Irene said towards her.

“Oh, I figured it out before they did,” Mrs. Hudson said with a chuckle. “You have to be observant, you see. And I am very observant.”

“We should celebrate,” Sally said. “We can make something really special for dinner, something you really like, Molly. What do you want?”

“Do we have everything for chicken cordon bleu?” Molly asked. Sally thought for a moment, then nodded. “I'd really like that.”

“Done,” Sally said with a smile.

Then Molly turned to Mrs. Hudson. “I know you usually eat dinner at home, but please join us. I'd love it if you were here to celebrate with us.”

“Of course I will, dear.” She turned to look at them. “You know, I think now would be a good time to share my secret. Well, it isn't a secret to Sherlock, but it is to the rest of you.”

“We're going to learn your first name, right?” John asked with a smile.

“Yes. Don't use it around the guests, but my first name is Evangeline,” she said with a smile.

“That's a beautiful name,” Molly said, grinning at her.

“I'm surprised you told me as well,” Irene said.

“Well, you seem to be a good woman, and I've quite enjoyed the conversations we've had,” Mrs. Hudson said. “I find I don't mind you knowing as well.”

“Thank you,” Irene said with a grin. Then she turned to Sally. “If we're going to make the chicken dish for dinner for us we should probably get all the ingredients ready.”

“Yes. We still have to get ready for the dinner rush.” She looked at John. “I think you were finished making lunch, right?”

“It will be done in about ten minutes,” he said, lifting his wrist up to check his watch. “Well, more like eight.” He looked over at Sherlock and Molly. “Join us?”

“Of course,” Molly said with a smile. The others gave them one last grin and headed back into the kitchen along with Mrs. Hudson, leaving Sherlock and Molly alone. She reached over and grasped his hand, looking up at him. “You know, I think I'm happy about it all now.”

“You are?” he asked, looking at her.

She nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

“That's good.” He moved more so he was in front of her. “I do love you, Molly, and I will take good care of both of you.”

“I know.” She leaned in and kissed him softy. “I love you too, Sherlock.” Then she moved towards the kitchen. “Come on. We might as well join everyone else.” He gave her a grin as she pulled him in the direction of the kitchen, and even with the bad news about Moriarty she felt incredibly light at heart, and she was glad for that.


	13. Chapter 13

Over the last few weeks Molly had become quite friendly with both of Sherlock's grandmothers. They were two very different women in every way other than temperament and their love for their youngest grandson. Catherine was tall and thin, with blonde hair and green eyes. She usually had her hair up in a chignon or perfectly done bun, and her clothes were very stylish and, Molly imagined, very expensive. Annabelle, on the other hand, was short and sturdy, with curly grey hair and blue eyes. When you looked at her face you could easily see that she was related to Sherlock, Molly thought. Her own sense of style was flattering to her, and the fabrics were still good quality, but it was obvious she did not have the money to spend on clothing that Catherine did.

She knew they approved of the engagement; she didn't think Catherine would have given Sherlock the ring for her if she hadn't. But she was worried about how they would take the news of a pregnancy. Sherlock assured her they would be happy, but she still wasn't sure. It was quite sudden, and they hadn't been together long. She worried they might think she'd done it on purpose, or that she was planning to break Sherlock's heart and demand money from him to take care of the child if their relationship ended. None of that was true, of course, but she worried about it nonetheless. She knew she shouldn't, but it was still there in the back of her head regardless.

“If you keep pacing you're going to wear a rut in the floor,” Sherlock said, not long before they were to arrive. They were in his apartment and he had been busy cooking. She stopped, looking at him, and then he looked up at her. “I've been listening to you do it for the last ten minutes,” he explained.

“I'm sorry. I'm just nervous,” she said, wringing her hands slightly.

“You don't need to be. I already told them,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Well, Annabelle guessed when I told her we had news to share,” he said with a smile. “And Catherine happened to be there when I confirmed her guess, so they know. They're both thrilled. They're hoping you have a girl so they can fuss over her. I assume if you had a boy they'd do the same, but considering they got two grandsons they're pushing for a female this time.”

“What do you want?” she asked, moving towards him.

“A girl,” he said. “I mean, I really should be hoping for a son because of the title and all that, but I would much rather have a girl. Mostly because that's what my entire family wants.” He paused. “Well, almost the entire family.”

“So your parents know too?”

He nodded. “And my brother. He wants me to have a son so he doesn't have to. He's dreading the idea of having to get married and produce an heir. That's the other reason I want a girl. Anything to tweak his nose a bit.”

Molly chuckled a bit. “That's kind of evil.”

“Well, we don't get along very well,” he said with a shrug. “He's eight years older than me, and he's generally resented me since I was five. The minute he became a teenager he wanted nothing to do with me. I think he might have been jealous of the attention I got from our mother. He has always felt she loved me more than him.”

“Does she?” she asked.

“No, not at all. But she and I have more interests in common than they do. That has affected things.” He turned and checked the food before going and pulling out a saucepan. “He's very different from my father as well. From what Catherine has told me, he's very similar to my grandfather, but not in the absolute worst ways, thankfully.”

“Did you ever meet him?”

“My grandfather?” he asked, turning back to her. She nodded. “Once, the day he came here to collect Catherine. When she demanded he take care of Mycroft and I in his will he wanted to meet me. It was one of the absolute worst moments in my life, to be honest. He was condescending and arrogant and incredibly rude, and it was all I could do to hold my tongue around him. I was fourteen years old and I had the attitude that goes with that age, but Catherine had begged me to be civil before she brought me to him. I think if I hadn't I never would have gotten to see her again, to be quite honest, at least until he died.”

“He sounds quite vindictive.”

He began pulling down ingredients for whatever it was he was going to make. “The only reason he came after Catherine was because it made him look bad in the eyes of his friends. He treated her very badly for the next year afterward. I think if she hadn't had visits with Annabelle and I to look forward to she may have done something drastic.” He shook his head. “I came to Bradbury Place to be there for Catherine the week he died. He didn't want to see me, but after he was pronounced dead I went to go see him. I made sure Catherine wasn't around before I told him exactly what I thought of him. I couldn't tell him to his face when he was alive, but I could at least say it to him before he was put in the ground.”

She came over to him. “I'm sorry.”

“It's all right,” he said. “He's gone and he can't hurt her anymore, nor can he hurt my father.” He was quiet for a moment. “Let's change the subject, shall we?”

“All right.” She looked over at what he was doing. “I know why you call Catherine by her first name, but why do you call Annabelle by hers?”

His mouth hitched up in a slight smile. “I didn't see her very much growing up, so I mostly got to know her when I lived here. I used to get embarrassed when she referred to me as her grandson, being a typical teenager, so she said it was all right if I called her Annabelle. It's stuck over the years, though I still call her Grandmum occasionally. Mycroft usually calls her Grandmother when he speaks to her, which isn't very often.”

“It sounds like your brother is a prat,” she said with a frown.

“He is,” he replied with a shrug. “But he's family. You don't get to choose who you're related to most of the time.”

“I hope I don't have to meet him.”

“You'll have to meet him eventually,” he said with a slight grin. “I'm fairly sure he's curious about you. I'm also fairly sure he's had your entire life history looked into. But he must approve of you, because if he had any real objections to you he would have convinced my father to convince me to end our engagement.”

“Yup. He's definitely a prat,” she said, making a face. He chuckled in response. “What does he do, anyway?”

“He took over my father's business,” he said. “My father was a real estate developer before he retired. He had done quite well for himself here in England and decently in America, but my brother expanded operations to ten other countries and the business is flourishing.”

“It sounds like everyone in your family has a head for business,” she said with a smile.

“Including my soon-to-be wife,” he said with a touch of pride. “You've been making incredibly good decisions. I honestly don't think you'll really need my help soon.”

“You know, I'd love to just concentrate on handling the guests,” she said after a minute or so of silence. “I mean, I want to be aware of decisions and have a say in them, but I'd prefer if you handle that most of the time. I think handling the guests will take up a lot of my time, especially with a young child around.”

“You can take time away from the business after you have this child, you know.”

“And stay at home by myself?” she asked, shaking her head. “No thank you. I'll take care of her while I'm working, but I want to be here. I want to have something to do.”

“You want a girl, too,” he said with a smile.

“I suppose I do.” He reached over for her and she smiled up at him, lifting her hands up to play with the top button of his shirt. “I was thinking about something.”

“Yes?”

“When the painting is done at our home, we should move some of our furniture over there. Empty out one of the apartments, you know? Between the two of us we could keep one apartment and most of the house furnished.”

“I could agree to that,” he said with a nod. “I may just have the bed in my flat delivered to the house. You did like it, right?”

“It's almost as comfortable as my bed,” she said with a nod. “I also really love your sofa and your sitting room furniture.”

“Well, I like the furniture in your bedroom,” he said. “I'd rather have that at the house and my set here.”

“You can call it our home, you know,” she said with a chuckle. “Because that's what it's going to be.”

“Our home,” he said quietly. “I don't think I've considered any place I've lived since I left here a home.”

“Everyone should have a home,” she said, moving her hands up to caress his cheek. “This place has always been my home. And this inn is your home, too. But I'm very glad to have a home to share with you that isn't this inn.”

“It was your home first,” he said with a smile.

“It didn't always feel like a home. It felt more like a place to live. This place was home,” she said quietly. “But I can make that place into a new home now. I think we're allowed to have two homes.”

He leaned in and kissed her, and she moved her hand away from his face to rest on his chest again. The kiss continued for a long time before he pulled away. “I think I burnt something,” he said with a groan, moving back to the stove.

“Really?” she asked, watching him as he checked the food. After a moment he hung his head, and she laughed. She clapped a hand over her mouth as he glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. She tried to keep the laughter down but she wasn't successful. After a moment he grinned and then chuckled as well. “What did you burn?” she asked when she was finally able to compose herself.

“The sauce. I can make another batch, but it might be slightly runny,” he said. “It's supposed to rest before it's put over the meat.”

“Well, I'll stop distracting you,” she said with a smile. She picked up the glass of juice she'd been ignoring and moved over to his table, sitting down. He took the saucepan to his sink and poured the sauce down the drain before cleaning it out. Then he began to make the sauce again as someone knocked at his door. “I'll get it,” she said, standing back up.

“Thank you,” he said with a nod.

She went to his door and opened it, seeing Sally standing there. “Is something wrong?” she asked with a frown on her face.

Sally shook her head and handed her a plate. “I come bearing dessert. I went to the bakery with John to see about buying up all the rolls they had to go with the stew I made tonight and I saw this torte and thought you all might enjoy it. I just got done setting up for dinner so that's why it's so late.” She looked inside the apartment. “They aren't here yet, right?”

Molly chuckled and shook her head. “They should be here soon, though.”

Sally nodded, then sniffed the air, making a slight face. “Did he burn something?”

“The sauce for whatever it is he's making,” she replied with a nod. “Does it smell bad?”

“A bit, yeah. Do you have anything to spray to make it smell better?”

“No, but I do have a few candles in my apartment that smell nice when they're lit.”

“I would get them,” Sally replied with a smile. “Well, have fun with your dinner tonight, and enjoy the dessert.” She gave Molly a wave and made her way back to the stairs.

Molly shut the door and brought the dessert in, setting it down on the counter. “Dessert?” Sherlock asked, glancing at it.

She nodded. “Sally picked it up from the bakery for us. She also said the place smells like burnt food.”

He hung his head again. “It's too cold to air the place out.”

“I have a solution,” she said, going over to him and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Give me a few minutes.”

“All right,” he said, lifting his head up again to nod.

She went back to the door and let herself out, going to her own apartment. She went inside and grabbed the three scented candles she had in her washroom, then went and got the cheap silver tray she had in her sitting room. She left her place and locked up behind her before going back to Sherlock's home. He watched her come back in and set the tray on his table and arrange the three different sized candle in the center. “I need a match,” she said.

“In the drawer here,” he said, pointing to a drawer on his left.

She came into his kitchen and got the matches, then took them back to the table. She lit one and then lit each of the candles. About two minutes later the smell of cinnamon, vanilla and apples began to fill the room. “See? It smells just like an apple pie with vanilla ice cream on top. And it looks nice, too.”

He grinned at her. “Yes, it does smell much better in here.”

“Occasionally I can save the day too,” she said with a grin of her own.

“I'd kiss you but I'd probably burn the sauce again.”

“We don't want that, do we?” She sat back down and picked up her juice, taking a sip. “How much longer until they get here?”

He pulled attention away to glance at his watch. “Ten minutes, give or take. They both tend to arrive early any time we make plans. They say it gives them more time with me out of my busy schedule.”

“Well, they have a point,” she said. “I'd show up early, too, if I was them. I mean, you and I live in the same building and I still didn't see you that often before all of this.”

“Well, that will be one change that will probably stay in effect even after our problem is taken care of,” he said. “If we don't end up moving into our home straightaway I was thinking it might be best if we consolidate into just your apartment and let Jacob have this one so he doesn't need to pay an arm and a leg in rent. He told me how much he was being charged and I was appalled.”

“I could definitely agree to that,” she said with a smile. “He's a very sweet man, and very hardworking. It would be much easier for him to just climb two flights of stairs at the end of his day than to get into a car and drive clear to the other side of the village.”

“Well, I brought it up to him today as a possibility and he seemed receptive to it. So that would probably be the best course of action.” He checked the sauce one last time, then removed it from the heat and turned the stove off. “Hopefully it will have some time to thicken before they show up.”

“What did you make, anyway?” she asked curiously as he came over and sat across from her. “Before you burnt the sauce it smelled delicious.”

“Coq au vin,” he said.

“You can cook French food?” she asked, surprised.

He nodded. “I have quite a few French foods that I can make, actually. At almost every business I've saved that involves making food I've gotten the best recipes from them. I could probably rival Sally in the kitchen when it came to making five star meals.” 

“Huh,” she said. “Any chance you could teach me how to make some of them?”

“I can give you cooking lessons,” he said. “I would probably cook more for us if I made it a point to have food around. As it stands, the only reason I had all the ingredients to make this dish was because I added them to the list for the last delivery of food here.”

“That's cheating,” she teased.

“I paid for it on my own,” he replied with a grin. “And I extended the offer to the others for as long as we have a problem with Moriarty, so we don't need to go out into the village. Sally and Lestrade have already taken me up on the offer. John had said he would be interested as well.”

“Are you paying for all the food?” she asked. He nodded. “That's very nice of you.”

“Well, it's my fault we're more or less stuck here,” he said with a slight shrug. “I'm just helping however I can.”

“And I bet a few months ago you wouldn't have considered doing that.”

“No, I probably wouldn't have,” he said. “You have changed me quite a bit.”

She was quiet for a moment. “What were you like before we started dating?” she asked.

“Focused would be a good description, to a degree that I ignored everything else in my life,” he said after he thought about it for about a minute. “I didn't take very good care of myself. I threw myself into my business at the cost of other aspects of my life. I was also very cold and I could be very arrogant at times. Not with the few I was friendly with, of course, but I was that way with just about everyone else. I didn't really have any close friends, just people that were slightly more than acquaintances. I didn't make it particularly easy for people to like me.”

“I really did change you a lot,” she said, her eyes slightly wide.

“Well, perhaps I haven't been saying it quite right,” he mused after a moment. “I changed _for_ you, and then I found that I liked the man I was becoming so I kept the changes to my personality. I find I'm much more contented now.”

“Why did you kiss me that first time?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“I suppose it was because I wanted to very badly. I barely knew you, and yet I found I wanted to try and impress you. And that evening in your bedroom I was hit with a desire to see just what it would be like to kiss you.” He was quiet for a moment. “I think I would have regretted it if I didn't.”

“That's why I let you kiss me,” she said with a smile. “I didn't want to regret not kissing you, even if it all ended badly.”

“Well, I have hope it will end quite well for us,” he said with a grin of his own. “And preferably quite a few years down the line.”

Her own smile widened. She was about to say something but there was a knock on his door. “I bet that's your grandmothers.”

“I hope so,” he said, standing up. “I don't want any bad news today.”

He made his way to the door and opened it, and then he stepped out of the way so his guests could come in. Molly stood as well, and as soon as Catherine and Annabelle were done hugging him they came straight over to her, each of them embracing her in turn. Catherine held her at arm's length when she was done. “I can't believe you're pregnant,” she said with a wide smile.

“Trust me, I was quite surprised myself,” she said with a laugh.

“Do your parents know?” Annabelle asked Sherlock.

“And Mycroft too,” he said with a nod. “So far the preference is for us to have a daughter. I think Mycroft is the sole holdout.”

“He just doesn't want to get married and have to produce an heir,” Catherine said. “That's incredibly selfish of him. But that's neither here nor there. Do you know when you're due?”

“Well, I'm six weeks pregnant, so roughly seven and a half months from now,” Molly said as Catherine let her go. The three women moved over to the table and sat down. “So sometime in the summer, I think.”

“Just when you're going to be busy,” Annabelle said. “I have faith the two of you can handle it, though. As long as you don't have multiples. That would be a headache.”

“If we're having more than one than I'll step away from the inn for a bit,” Molly said. “But I'm rather hoping we don't. We aren't even open to customers and already I know there are going to be long hours involved. Having two children giving us sleepless nights would be hell.”

Annabelle chuckled. “Yes, I can imagine it would.” She turned to Sherlock. “I think you'll be a very good father. At least as good as Jonathan.”

“I will graciously accept that compliment,” he said with a grin. “Would either of you like something to drink?”

“A glass of wine?” Catherine asked.

“I'd like one as well,” Annabelle said with a nod.

“I'll get them,” Molly said, standing up. “I want more juice anyway.” She picked up her glass and took it to the kitchen. Sherlock handed her two wineglasses and then went to the small wine cooler he had and pulled out a bottle. “I don't get to drink that for a while,” she said as she took the bottle from him.

“Not that you drank much of it before,” he pointed out.

“True,” she conceded. He went and got her a corkscrew and she used it to get the cork out. Then she poured wine into the two glasses and took them to the other women, handing them each a glass.

Catherine took a sip of her wine, and her eyes widened. “This is an excellent wine, Sherlock. What is it? Chardonnay?'

He nodded as he got a wineglass for himself. “It's from the Kistler Vineyard in California.”

“Those are incredibly expensive,” she said. “I think I only had two bottles at the manor, and I was terrified to try them when my husband was alive. He always wanted to save it for the most important guests.” She took another sip. “Not that they wanted it. Usually they were his friends and they preferred brandy to wine.”

“I have a full bottle, if you would like one,” he said, pouring himself a glass.

“I would,” Catherine said with a smile. Then she turned to Annabelle. “I see a night of excellent wine and good food in our future.”

“Oh, that will be nice,” Annabelle said with a grin. “Can we hire someone else to cook for the night?”

“Of course,” Catherine replied as she nodded. “And I wouldn't mind if we drink most of the bottle before the food is done.”

“Should I be concerned that the two of you are going to get very tipsy and do something you'll regret?” Sherlock asked with a grin, taking a sip of his own wine as Molly laughed.

“We can both handle our alcohol well enough, thank you very much,” Annabelle said. “We are not young university students on a bender.”

Sherlock chuckled. “Just don't call me with any problems. I may leave you to your own devices if that happens.”

“I thought he was supposed to be more fun since he started dating you,” Annabelle said to Molly.

She looked at him. “I don't know. I find him to be quite enjoyable.”

“Of course you do, dear. You're marrying him, after all,” Catherine said. She took another sip of her wine. “So what did you make for dinner tonight, Sherlock?”

“Coq au vin,” he said. “The sauce may not be as thick as I would like, but that's because I burnt the first batch.” He took a sip of his wine.

“Probably because Molly distracted you,” Annabelle said knowingly.

Sherlock's eyes widened and Molly was almost afraid he was going to choke on his wine. “Pardon?” he managed to get out.

“Well, if I was you and I had a very attractive fiancée and some time before guests were to arrive I'd get distracted too,” Annabelle said. “Wouldn't you, Catherine?”

“I absolutely would,” she said, smiling at her grandson. “And the look on your face right now is absolutely priceless, Sherlock.”

“I'm actually at a loss for words right now,” he said quietly.

“I think they're just teasing you,” Molly said with a laugh. “But Catherine is right. You look very interesting right now.”

“I do not want to have this conversation right now,” he said, shaking his head.

“Well, she's pregnant. We can imagine she is very good at distracting you,” Annabelle said matter-of-factly. “But we'll stop teasing you about it.”

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Catherine sobered slightly. “Has there been any progress with your problem?” she asked Sherlock and Molly as Molly took a sip of her juice.

“Sadly, no. Scotland Yard is staking out the places that his former cohort suggested they look at, but there's still no sign of him,” Sherlock said. “However, no one has made any attempts to come after the inn, so all we can do is wait for him to emerge or for someone to make an attempt.”

“I'm sorry,” Catherine said. “Why does he have such an unhealthy obsession with you?”

“I have no idea,” he said with a slight shrug. “I know he's gone after other businesses and not acquired them, but he's seemingly made it a point to try and come after just about half the businesses I've helped save.”

“He worries me,” Annabelle said. “The last time he was here asking questions, someone started to mention I lived in the village. They stopped after a moment, but it put me on edge for a while.”

Sherlock looked at her. “Do you think either of you are in danger?”

“I hope not,” Catherine said. “He's a dangerous man, though, isn't he?”

Molly nodded. “He tried to kill Irene a few weeks ago.”

“Irene? As in, Irene Adler?” Catherine asked. Sherlock nodded. “Why would he do that?”

“She was helping us,” Sherlock said. Catherine gave him a quizzical look. “It's complicated. But she's here now, and we're trying to keep her safe.”

Both Catherine and Annabelle looked at each other, surprised. Finally they looked back at Sherlock and Molly. “And you don't mind?” Annabelle asked Molly.

“No, I don't,” she said, shaking her head.

“You definitely got yourself a keeper, Sherlock,” she said with a nod after a moment.

“Yes. I wouldn't be half as understanding,” Catherine said before taking a sip of her wine. “But I suppose if she was helping you she must have changed. I don't think I'll forgive her for hurting you, but at least I can stop hating her.”

“Were you really that worried after I ended things with her?” he asked.

“Frankly? Yes,” Catherine said with a nod. “You closed yourself off. I think the term 'human robot' would be appropriate.”

He looked at his wine. “You're right, I suppose.”

“Which is part of the reason we love Molly so much,” Annabelle said gently. “You've been much happier since that the two of you began dating. We've stopped worrying about you. She's taking excellent care of you.”

“I try,” Molly said with a smile, going over to Sherlock and grasping his hand. She turned her smile to him, and he looked at her, relaxing slightly. “And you don't have to worry about him. I'll take care of him for a long time.”

Sherlock grinned at her and squeezed her hand. “Good. I'll do the same for you,” he said quietly.

“Oh, you definitely have changed for the better, dear,” Annabelle said fondly, a smile on her face.

He turned back to them, still smiling. “I find I quite like these changes.”

“We all do,” Catherine said with a smile of her own. She took another sip of her wine. “Have you given any thought to the wedding yet?”

Molly shook her head. “The only thing we decided was that it would happen after I have the baby.”

“That's probably best,” Annabelle said with a nod. “Trying to balance planning a wedding and planning for a baby would be an unmitigated disaster, I think.”

“That's what we thought as well,” Sherlock said. He took another sip of his wine. “I can already tell Mycroft is going to disapprove, but then again he's unhappy with just about every decision I've ever made, starting with the fact that I'm friendly with you, Catherine.”

Catherine sighed. “He takes the idea of family loyalty too far, just like my husband did. He should...loosen up, I suppose is the best thing to say.”

“That will happen when Hell freezes over,” Annabelle said with a laugh. “He was always so serious when he was young. I think fun is a foreign concept to him.”

“Oh yes, it's definitely obvious you're the favorite,” Molly said to Sherlock with a smile.

“And that's probably why he resents me so much,” Sherlock said, though he did have a faint smile on his face. “Just once I would like to have my entire family in the same room and have no one glaring at someone else or saying anything hurtful.”

“Maybe one day it will happen,” Catherine said. “And hopefully sooner rather than later. Your father and I have had a few conversations in the last three weeks. They've gone decently, I think.”

“Really?” he said, surprised. “That's news to me.”

“Well, we've been talking about the manor mostly, but last night we had an honest conversation about what his father did to both of us. He never realized how bad it was for me. I think we've come to an understanding about things. As it stands, he's thinking about coming out to the manor to look it over. He's asked me to be there to let him know what's been changed since he left. So it's a start.”

“Yes, it is,” Sherlock said with a nod.

“I wouldn't be surprised if he is also coming here to meet Molly,” Annabelle said. “Victoria said they're both very curious about this woman who managed to capture your heart. And knowing them it will be a surprise visit.”

“I hope I can talk them out of making it a surprise,” Sherlock said. “At least while there's still a threat. They'd be relatively safe at the manor, but if they stayed here...”

“There would be more targets, and we don't need that,” Molly said, and Sherlock nodded.

“Besides, knowing my luck they'd show up at the most inopportune time,” he said. “I would like it very much if they got a good impression of Molly.”

“What, like showing up when the two of you are in bed together?” Annabelle said innocently.

“Please tell me the conversation is not going in that direction again,” Sherlock murmured before hanging his head slightly.

“That's all I'm going to say about it,” she said with a chuckle. “Besides, Molly doesn't appear to be bothered by the turn in the conversation.”

“I'm actually rather amused by it,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. Sherlock looked at her sharply. “You know if my grandmother was still alive she would have done exactly the same thing. And it would have been worse because we'd have been sneaking you in and out of this apartment with her right down the hall. She would have had a knowing look every time you talked to her.”

“I can't win, can I?” he said with a sigh.

“Nope,” she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “You're going to get teased by your grandmothers over this whether you like it or not.”

“We tease you because we love you,” Catherine said with a smile. “But I suppose I can try and reign Annabelle in before she causes you further embarrassment.”

“I would appreciate it,” Sherlock said.

“You're taking the fun out of my evening,” Annabelle said to Catherine, but she was smiling.

“Well, we want to be able to spend time with our great-grandchild, right?” Catherine asked her. She nodded in response. “If you embarrass him too much you may never get to see that child.”

“I hadn't thought about that,” Annabelle conceded. Then she turned to her grandson. “I'll stop, I promise.”

“Thank you,” he said gratefully.

“Well, _I_ wouldn't stop you from seeing your great-grandchild,” Molly said. “I want as many members of her family to be involved in her life as possible.” Then she sobered slightly. “Most of them, at any rate.”

Sherlock squeezed her hand tightly. “She won't be involved,” he said gently. “I'll keep her far away.”

“Your mother?” Catherine asked quietly. Molly nodded. “Well, between the rest of us we'll make sure your child is well loved, and will always know they're well loved. Your son or daughter will never have to feel the way you did.”

“I'm glad,” Molly said with a tremulous smile. She shook her head, as if to clear the thoughts from it, and then her smile brightened as she turned to Sherlock. “Why don't you serve dinner up, Sherlock? It's probably getting cold.”

“That's a good idea,” he said with a nod, squeezing her hand one more time before he let go. “Go ahead and sit down. I'll take care of it.”

She nodded and sat down next to Catherine again. Both women gave her warm smiles, and she felt her own smile becoming more firm. She was very glad she was marrying into this family, she realized. The ones she had met loved her as much as she loved them, and she had hope that the rest of Sherlock's family would feel the same way, and that hope was a wonderful thing.


	14. Chapter 14

Sherlock got a call a week later just before dinner and Molly occupied herself with tasks downstairs in the kitchen with Sally and John while he took it. She was worried it was bad news, and when she saw the look on his face she got worried it was especially bad news. “What happened?” she asked, coming up to him.

“My parents have decided to arrive here in an hour and a half,” he said with a frown. “They've been with Catherine at Bradbury Place to inspect the home, and my father decided today would be a good day to check up on his youngest son.” He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. “At least I got some warning.”

She relaxed. “Dear God, I thought it was bad news about Moriarty,” she said with a grin.

He looked up at her. “You’re smiling,” he said, scowling slightly. “Why are you smiling?”

“Because in forty minutes I can get food and tea ready and make a good impression,” she said. She handed him her keys and turned him around. “Meet me in my apartment. I need to filch a few things from the kitchen here and then I’ll be up there.” He looked behind him for a moment but walked out of the kitchen. Molly turned to Sally, who had an amused look on her face. “What?”

“I love that he’s upset and you’re perfectly calm,” she said with a chuckle. “What are you taking from the kitchen?”

“Some of the chicken breasts you’d seasoned that you decided not to use tonight, some of the salad and a few other things,” she said. “Nothing you’ll actually miss.”

Sally shook her head. “These are the people who are going to be your in-laws that we’re talking about. I can run upstairs to your place and help you make a really good dinner with the stuff I was planning to make us for supper tonight. It's fairly high class and it should impress them.”

“I'm cooking it?” Molly asked.

“I'm going to start it. You get to set it up with my help, so it's more or less like you're making it.” She turned to John. “You can handle the supper prep on your own, right?”

“Sure,” John said with a nod. “Help her impress his parents.”

“Don’t think I’m going to make you do all the work,” Sally said to him with a grin as she went to the refrigerator. “I'll be back once I'm sure she's gotten it set up right.”

He chuckled slightly. “Take your time. Good luck tonight, Molly.”

“Thank you,” Molly said. Sally began handing her ingredients and then took some things for herself, and then they carried them all the way up to the third floor. Molly’s door was unlocked and they let themselves in to find Sherlock on the sofa. “Sally’s helping out,” Molly said as Sally made her way into Molly’s kitchen.

“You don’t need to,” he said.

“We both know Molly can cook, but these are her future in-laws. If I can help her impress them, I will.”

“Very well,” Sherlock said with a nod. “What are you making?”

“There’s a website I like to go to that has recipes geared towards ingredients we have here in England, and they had a recipe I tried a few days ago for a date I had,” she said.

“You had a date?” Molly asked with a grin.

Sally nodded, blushing ever so slightly. “One of the men who’s been doing the construction has been paying me extra attention the last few weeks, coming early and staying after everyone else has left just to talk to me. John covered the kitchen that evening and I made my date roast fillet of beef that's stuffed with lobster. It turned out so well I thought I might make it for us tonight, but it will be better put to use impressing his parents, I think. And before you ask, I paid for the ingredients out of my own pocket.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Sherlock said, getting up. “Do you have all the ingredients?”

Sally shook her head. “I need a bottle of white wine. And I need something you aren’t planning on drinking because I’ll be using the whole bottle.”

“I have a bottle,” Molly said, setting down the ingredients Sally had had her carry up. “I bought it to drink before we found out I was pregnant but since I am that’s not really an option now.”

“Go grab it,” she replied. Molly went to her refrigerator and pulled out the bottle, handing it to Sally. Sally looked at it approvingly. “This will be perfect. When I get wine to cook with and I don’t want the cheap stuff I buy this.”

“Good,” Molly said.

Sally dug her keys out of her pocket. “I tried my hand at making a rich chocolate truffle tart last night. It’s supposed to chill for at least eight hours. As long as you save me a slice or two you two can take it for dessert tonight.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said with a nod, looking at Molly. She gave Sally a quick hug before taking the keys, and the two of them left her place and made their way to Sally’s. “You have a very good friend,” he said as Molly put the key in the lock.

“Trust me, I know,” she said with a smile as she unlocked the door. She had been in Sally's home since Sally had finished decorating and updating her new furniture but Sherlock hadn't. She grinned as she watched him look around for a bit. “She has good taste, doesn't she?”

“She certainly does,” he said with a nod.

Molly went over to her refrigerator and opened it, spotting the tart immediately. “This looks delicious,” she said.

Sherlock came over to look at it. “Yes, it does. It looks very decadent.”

“If this is good and she lets me have more of it I think it might taste nice with a raspberry sauce. If we can try some of it now I'll see if I should make some.” She pulled the tart out and then shut the door. They made their way to the door and Sherlock took the keys from Molly, locking it behind them. They went back to Molly's apartment and she saw Sally had a large pot of water boiling. “What's that for?” she asked as she set down the tart.

“The lobster tails,” she said. “You get to take the meat out of them and set up the dish, but I'll walk you through how to do it step by step. What do you have for a salad?”

“Not much,” Molly said with a frown.

“Let me run downstairs again and get a few things. I don't think the water will start boiling before I get back, but if it does keep an eye on the lobster tails.” She moved away from the pot and left Molly's apartment.

“I think a meal like this will impress my parents greatly,” Sherlock said with a slight grin. “They can afford the best, but usually they don't get it. This will be a treat, I think. Especially since you're making it.”

“Did they ever meet Irene?” she asked, glancing at the pot before turning to look at him.

“They were supposed to, but I found out what she was about a few days before that was to happen.” He moved over to the stools and sat down. “She told me she arranged for me to hear that conversation. She said she knew if she had met my parents it would hurt me more when I found out the truth.”

“She really did care about you,” Molly said thoughtfully.

“Yes, I suppose she did,” he said with a slight nod. “At the time I didn't know all this, though, but now I can understand why she did it. I'm actually grateful. In her own way, she was protecting me.”

“She isn't that bad of a woman, I've found. I could almost consider her a friend if we get to know each other better.”

“The missus and the ex,” he said ruefully, and Molly began to laugh. He looked at her, brow slightly furrowed. “Why is that amusing?”

“Catherine used the same term to describe her friendship with my Nana the first day we talked,” she said with a smile. “At least you're taking the situation better than your grandfather did.”

“I suppose I have to,” he said, a small smile on his face. “We all have to reside under the same roof for the time being, so it's best if we all get along.” He stood after a moment. “I suppose I should get another bottle of wine for dinner tonight. I'll be right back.”

“Take your time,” she said, turning back to the water in the pot. She had a few moments to herself, and she found she was getting just a little nervous. Not too much, but the little flutter of panic was in her gut. Sally and Sherlock arrived at the same time and both came towards the kitchen. “Is that the bottle you promised your grandmothers?” Molly asked Sherlock as Sally set the bowl she'd carried everything up in on the counter.

He shook his head. “No, they already have it, and they've probably already drank it. This one is not anywhere near as expensive as that one, but I think it will pair well.”

“May I?” Sally asked. Sherlock nodded and handed her the bottle. “A 2005 Pinot Gris 'Vielles Vignes'? You _do_ have excellent taste in wine. And this should pair well, since you're essentially having surf and turf.” She handed the bottle back to him and he took it over to the refrigerator, putting it in to continue to chill. Then she turned to Molly. “Okay. I'm going to explain the recipe to you, and then you're going to set it up. Let's start with preparing the beef while we're waiting for the lobster tails to cook.”

She nodded and came over to her. Sally told her what to do and Molly followed her instructions to the letter. Sally looked on approvingly, and by the time the meal went in the oven Molly was fairly confident it would turn out well. Sally gave her one last hug and headed downstairs, leaving Molly to clean up and make the salad. She started on that as soon as her door was shut. “I hope I don't burn it,” she said as she tore the lettuce into bite sized pieces.

“I think you'll do fine,” Sherlock said from the stool where he was sitting. He had only left to go back to his apartment to get four wineglasses when he realized Molly only had two, even if Molly was only going to be drinking juice. “It doesn't seem to be a hard recipe.”

“It really isn't,” she said with a slight smile. “And there should be some left over if we each eat only one serving.”

“I'll try my best to eat only one tonight,” he said with a wider smile than hers. “You seem nervous.”

“It's just now hitting me that these are the people I'm going to be related to for the rest of my life, hopefully,” she said, pausing in what she was doing. “I _really_ want them to like me.”

“I'm very confident they will.” He watched her for a moment. “Do you want any help?”

“If you'll set this all up I can make the dressing,” she said.

“All right,” he said with a nod. “What type of dressing were you going to make?”

“A light raspberry vinaigrette. I generally tend to make my own dressing for salads. It's healthier that way.” She began to gather the ingredients as he came over and began to make cut the vegetables for the salad. “Make sure you remove the seeds from the tomatoes.”

“I will,” he said as he worked. “Generally it's one of us cooking or the other. Working together on a meal is rather nice.”

“It is nice, isn't it?” she said with a smile. “I'm glad Sally let us have some of the tart. While I have the raspberries out I'll make some sauce for it. Not that it needs it, but just in case it's wanted. And if we don't use it I'll spoon it over my chocolate gelato.”

“The tart was very good on its own,” he said. “But I think the sauce could be an improvement. Are you using fresh raspberries?”

She shook her head. “They're too expensive right now. I'll be using frozen ones. But I do like snacking on them when they're less expensive.”

“You know, if you get strange food cravings I'll get you whatever you want,” he said, turning to look at her. “I don't care how expensive it is.”

“I'll try not to be too extravagant,” she said with a chuckle. “Though if you could get me berries I would love that.”

“Any particular type?”

“Well, definitely raspberries, but also strawberries and blackberries. I like all of them.”

“I'll see what I can do,” he said as he nodded. He turned his attention back to the food. “Do you regret any of this?”

She stopped what she was doing to look at him. He didn't look at her, instead concentrating on the food. She moved over to him and put a hand on his arm, and he stopped. “What brought that question on?” she asked.

“I suppose I'm getting a bit nervous myself,” he admitted. “You are the first woman I've ever introduced to my parents. I find myself hoping that things go exceedingly well tonight. But I worry that you'll meet them and it will go poorly and you'll regret ever starting a relationship with me.”

She reached up to touch his face gently, turning his head so he was looking at her. “I won't, no matter if tonight goes poorly or not. Don't think I will, all right? It's a little fast, but I don't have any regrets. I would do everything the same way if I had to do it all over again.”

She saw him relax as he gave her a small grin. “I'm actually happy. I can honestly say that waking up and going about my day isn't a chore anymore. I have things to look forward to, and I'm fulfilled. I just don't want that to change.”

“It won't. I promise.” She leaned in and kissed him softly. “I'm glad I make you happy,” she murmured when she pulled away.

“Do I make you happy?” he asked, turning to look at her and putting a hand on her waist.

“Happier than I've been in a long time,” she said with a wide smile. “So don't worry. Whether they like me or not, I'm not going to ruin this. If they don't like me or your brother disapproves then we'll just do it on our own and to hell with anyone who doesn't like it.”

“At least my grandmothers approve,” he said.

“Yes. And that's why I'm not panicking as much as I probably would otherwise,” she said with a chuckle. “I'm nervous, but it could be a lot worse. It could be like the day before I started my post at the hospital. I had night terrors the entire night about just how badly I was going to muck everything up. I was a nervous wreck by the time I started my shift.”

“They wouldn't have hired you if they thought you would be incompetent.”

“I know. But it took me some time to realize that.” She gave him another quick kiss before pulling away. “We don't have all that much time left before they get here. We should finish getting ready.”

“All right.” He went back to work on the salad, and she began to work on the dressing and the sauce. He finished before she did, and he sat back down on the stool he'd been sitting on earlier. When she was done she set both foods to the side and caught him glancing at his watch. “We should probably meet them downstairs,” he said. “I mean, they both know we live on the third floor, but it's only proper to greet them.”

“Are they going to let you know when they're close?” she asked.

“I don't know,” he said with a frown.

“Then let's head downstairs and go wait,” she said. “If nothing else we can see if they need any help in the dining area and help out if they do. We're still getting a bit of a crowd most evenings.”

“All right,” he said, nodding. He got up off his stool and met her at the door. She let them out and after she had locked up he reached over for her hand. She gave it a squeeze and they made their way to the first floor. Just as they got to the foyer the door opened. Sherlock stopped and Molly did as well. “Hello, Dad. Mum,” he said quietly as a couple walked in.

Molly looked at his parents. It was very obvious that his mother was related to Annabelle, with her long curly hair the same shade as Sherlock's and striking blue eyes. She was tall and thin, almost the exact opposite of her mother, but her facial features were similar. She gave her son a wide smile and Molly could see it was exactly like her mother's. His father, on the other hand, was almost as tall as Sherlock but had lighter brown hair and eyes that looked more gold than brown. Sherlock apparently took after his mother more than his father. He had a grin on his face as well, and that put Molly at ease.

“Hello, Sherlock,” his mother said warmly, coming up to him as his father shut the door behind them. She came over and embraced him, and he hugged her back. When they were done she stood arm's length away from him. “You look much better than you did the last time you were home,” she said. “Not as thin and careworn, for a start.”

“It's very easy to see his fiancée is a good influence on him,” his father said as he came up to them. “It's a nice change.”

“Mum, Dad, this is Molly Hooper,” he said when his mother dropped her arms. “Molly, this is my father Jonathan and my mother Victoria.”

“Hello,” Molly said with a smile.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Victoria said, moving over to hug Molly. Molly was surprised for a moment but she hugged her back. When she pulled away Molly gave her a quizzical look. 'We've been worried about him for a long while now. Since he met you we've worried less.”

“I didn't do much,” Molly said, blushing slightly.

“Do you think we could go upstairs now?” Sherlock asked, looking just a bit uncomfortable. “There are people nearby who don't need to hear every worry you two have had.”

“Of course, dear,” Victoria said with a smile, going over to him and patting his cheek. She took his arm in hers. “Whose apartment are we going to?”

“Mine,” Molly said. “Supper's in the oven.”

Victoria and Sherlock moved forward, Sherlock listening as his mother talked to him. Molly followed after them with Jonathan next to her. “You look almost exactly like Marguerite,” he said quietly as they made their way to the stairs.

“I've been told that many times,” she said with a warm smile. “I take it as a very high compliment.”

“Well, considering she was a very attractive woman you definitely should,” he said with a chuckle. “And you appear to have her temperament, unlike your mother.” He paused. “I shouldn't have said that. I apologize.”

“No, it's all right. There's no love lost between us,” she said with a slight shrug. “She's not a very nice woman.”

“She wasn't a very nice child, either. She hated me from first introduction. I think if our parents had gotten married she would have made my life hell. The one silver lining to my father not marrying your grandmother is that I ended up not being related to her. I will be now, of course, but I'm assuming you're estranged?” Molly nodded. “Then it won't be so bad.”

“I hope she stays away for a very long time,” she said quietly.

He was quiet for a moment. “You know, I suppose another silver lining is that since your mother and I are not related you can date my son.”

She laughed. “Yeah, that is a nice upside to the situation.” They made their way up the first flight of stairs. “Were you all really that worried about Sherlock? I know his grandmothers mentioned they were, and he told me he was very...driven.”

“Did someone compare him to a human robot?” Jonathan asked. Molly nodded. “It wasn't far from the truth. He didn't feel much of anything after dating Ms. Adler. He shut off his emotions completely, wouldn't really let anyone get close. Never smiled anymore, not like he did that much in the first place. His mother and I thought he would be alone and miserable for the rest of his life, just as it appears his brother is going to be. Now that we've stopped worrying about Sherlock we can go back to worrying about Mycroft, I suppose.”

“I'm sure I'll meet him eventually,” she said.

“He's intrigued by you, I think. He knows more about you than you probably know about him.”

“Well, Sherlock doesn't talk about him much,” she said. “You two and Catherine and Annabelle come up in conversation a lot, but not Mycroft.”

“They are estranged, for various reasons. Two, mainly: Sherlock's friendship with Catherine and his refusal to join my old company. The first may be less of a sticking point between them now that Catherine and I have started to make our amends, but the news that Sherlock is going to make his life here has irritated his brother to no end. He thinks he would flourish best in a corporate environment.”

“His brother doesn't know him at all, does he?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“No, not really. They were never particularly close to begin with.” He turned to her and grinned as they got to the second floor. “Enough family drama. Marguerite told me quite a bit about you over the years. She was incredibly proud of you. You used to be a pathologist?”

She nodded. “At St. Bart's, in London. I started working there as soon as I got out of medical school.”

“That must have been an interesting experience.”

“Oh, it was,” she said with a nod. “I miss it sometimes, but I like things here so much more. It's more...fulfilling.”

“Marguerite used to say the same thing. I think running this place is in your blood. I find myself very glad it went to you and not your mother. You'll love the place as much as Marguerite did, and that will do both you and Sherlock well in the long run.” He glanced up at his wife and son, who were continuing to chat quietly. “She would approve of your relationship, I think. She always liked Sherlock, and I could see her playing matchmaker.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Molly said with a laugh. “I think that might have been her intention from the start, to be honest. I mean, she could have let Greg teach me everything, but she was going to have Sherlock do it. I think she wanted to throw us together and then guide everything along.”

“She would be very happy to have a great-grandchild on the way,” he said quietly.

“Yes, she would. I haven't thought too far ahead, but if Sherlock is willing and we have a daughter I'd like one of her names to be Marguerite. First or middle I'm not sure, but one of them.”

“I think that would be a fine way to honor her,” he said with a smile. “If it matters, I hope you have a girl. If you have a boy then Mycroft will think he doesn't have to get married and have a child and we want a change like this to occur for him.”

“Then I hope we have a girl too,” she said with a smile in return. They lapsed into silence as they made their way up the second flight of stairs, and when they got to the top they made their way to Molly's apartment and Molly let them in. “Please, make yourselves comfortable,” she said. “I need to check on dinner.”

“It smells delectable,” Victoria said, moving to the sofa. “What is it?”

“Lobster stuffed roast fillet of beef,” Molly said.

“That's quite extravagant,” Jonathan said with a slight whistle.

“Our head cook had planned on making it for the staff for supper tonight, but she decided it would be better put to use for our meal,” Sherlock said, going to Molly's refrigerator. He pulled out the bottle of wine and set it on the counter. “What juice do you want, Molly?”

“The white grape and apple,” she said with a smile before opening the oven. She pulled the entree out and got her meat thermometer from the counter, sticking it into the food. She checked the temperature. “I think it's done. We have salad and dessert as well.”

“You really didn't need to go to all this trouble to impress us,” Victoria said. “We already liked you, for the changes you brought about in our son. I really can't thank you enough, Molly.”

“Well, he's changed me as well, so it evens out in the end,” she said, placing the food on the top of the stove. She went to her cabinets to get a serving plate and a gravy dish, and then she moved the food onto the plate before spooning some of the liquid into the gravy dish. “I'll admit, though, that I've been nervous tonight.”

“Both of us were,” Sherlock said as he got a corkscrew. “Her less than I, apparently.”

“Well, it _is_ happening rather quickly, but I knew I wanted to marry your mother the minute she smiled at me, and it wasn't as though we didn't have a whirlwind relationship at first,” Jonathan said. “I had intended to come back here when I was done with university but she surprised me by leaving the village and moving to London after my first semester. I hadn't expected that, but it pleased me greatly. Then I absolutely knew I had to marry her.”

“Well, my mother and father weren't pleased at first,” Victoria said with a chuckle. “I finally simply ran away. Marguerite gave me some money to tide me over in London as I set up a life for myself. I was terrified I would get there and find Jonathan had moved on from me, but the minute he saw me he kissed me, and that was when I knew I had made the right choice.”

“That's actually quite romantic,” Molly said with a smile as she brought the serving plate to the table. “I never really believed in love at first sight. Love at first conversation, maybe, but not love at first sight.”

“I knew I wanted to pursue you after the conversation on the stairs,” Sherlock said as he got the cork out of the bottle. “The first time we spoke. The fact that you seemed intrigued about me was a good start.”

“Well, I didn't know anything about you at that point,” Molly said with a chuckle as she went back to get the salad. “But I thought you were quite handsome. I felt I could develop a serious crush if I wasn't careful.”

“Well, I'm glad you did,” he said, giving her a grin which she returned. “And I'm glad you decided to let me kiss you that first time.”

“As I said before, if I hadn't I would have regretted it, and I wanted to stop living a life full of regrets.” She moved over to him and put her hand on his arm, squeezing gently. He looked at her for a few moments as she gazed back, both of them intent on each other, ignoring everything else.

“It's like they've forgotten we're even here,” Jonathan said in an amused tone of voice, and both Molly and Sherlock seemed to snap out of it.

“Hush, dear,” Victoria replied, though when Molly glanced at her she saw she was wearing a warm smile. “We were just as bad.”

“I suppose we were,” Jonathan said with a nod. He got up and made his way to the table. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“Could you bring the rolls to the table?” Molly asked.

“Of course.” He picked up the basket of rolls Sally had brought up with her. “Are these from Simon's bakery?”

Molly nodded. “We get all of our baked goods from him. Except dessert tonight. That was made by our head chef, my friend Sally. We sampled it already, I'm afraid, but it's quite good.”

“I can't wait to try it,” Victoria said as she too came to the table. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Get the dressing?” Molly asked as Jonathan put the rolls on the table. Molly pointed to her left. “It's right there.”

“Of course,” Victoria said. She went to the counter and picked it up. “Homemade?”

“I don't generally tend to buy salad dressing anymore. Sally taught me how to make a few really good ones, and I've found they taste better. That's a raspberry vinaigrette.” She had already put out plates and flatware on the table, and she gestured to it now. “Please, sit.”

“Oh, I can't wait to try it,” she said with a smile before she took it to the table. At that point Sherlock had gotten done pouring the wine and he gave each of his parents a glass after they sat down. “From your collection?” she asked him.

He nodded. “I'm not quite sure how it will pair, but it should work.”

“Well, you always did have good taste. That's _definitely_ something you picked up from your father as opposed to me. I can appreciate a good wine, but I don't take it to the same level the two of you do.” Victoria took a sip of her wine. “I will definitely say that this is very good wine. I can't wait to see how well it goes with the food.”

“I tried,” he said as he handed Molly the glass that was filled with juice. She took it and set it down to one of the open plates. “Do you want to serve it?” he asked her. “If not, I don't mind doing it. I mean, you cooked it. You should relax.”

“Thanks,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. She sat down and he brought his own glass to the table before going to pick up the carving knife. He began to carve into the meat, placing a serving on each plate before spooned some of the liquid over it. Finally he sat down himself and she grinned at him. “I think we should have a toast, don't you?”

“I think we should,” Jonathan said before Sherlock answered. “To what I hope will be many more evenings like this.” He lifted up his glass.

“I will definitely drink to that,” Victoria said with a smile, lifting up her own glass.

“To many more evenings like this, then,” Sherlock said as he raised his own glass. He gave Molly a smile as she lifted up her glass and she knew, without a doubt, that the evening was going to be an unmitigated success, and that pleased her greatly.


	15. Chapter 15

It had almost been too much to hope that Moriarty would retreat into the woodwork and leave them alone while he was evading Scotland Yard. Four days after the visit from Sherlock's parents there was a knock on the door at three in the morning from John saying someone had attempted to vandalize the other building. Everyone on the third floor who was still asleep woke up and headed downstairs. Sherlock and Molly talked to the village constable for quite some time, and the man promised he would keep some extra eyes on the buildings. It was with great difficulty that everyone went back to sleep that night.

The next morning Sherlock went to the constable to find out what had been learned about the two men. The others were all in the dining room nursing cups of coffee when he returned. “They aren't from London, and all they knew about the person who hired them was that he wasn't local. Normally they're a pair of hooligans, troublesome but generally harmless. But what they had planned for the building would have been worse if you hadn't stopped them, John.”

“What were they going to do?” Molly asked, her eyes wide.

“Set the place on fire. It's a stone building, but the rooms would have been destroyed and the structure might have been damaged.” He sat down in the chair next to Molly and Sally pushed a mug towards him, then the pot of coffee. He poured himself a cup. “It appears he's getting people to cause his mischief closer to home.”

“If he could get two people to commit arson he could easily get people who would agree to try and kill me,” Irene said quietly. “Or any of you.”

“The same thought crossed my mind, so I did something I had hoped not to do,” Sherlock said.

“What was that?” Greg asked before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Asking my brother for help,” Sherlock said with a sigh. “A few years back someone was attempting to vandalize a building that my father's company had bought. They went as far as trying to plant bombs to blow it up, but my brother had had the foresight to hire a private security firm. I asked for the name of the firm he had used. He gave it to me and I'll be putting a call into them later today.”

“That's going to cost an arm and a leg,” John said, shaking his head.

“I'll cover it,” Sherlock said. “This is a threat beyond what we can handle on our own. Hopefully they can get someone up here before tonight.” He began to fix his coffee. “If Moriarty is getting people closer to home to do his dirty work, we need to be on our guard even more. For the right amount of money just about anyone will break a few laws. And we might not get lucky in that the next person or persons he hires will be as inept as those two.”

“I hate this so much,” Molly replied.

“We all do,” Sally said, she leaned back in her seat slightly. “But we can't stay holed up here forever. We need our freedom, need to be able to leave and live our lives.”

“I understand,” Sherlock said with a sigh. “But I'm not willing to lose any of you to him. Your lives are not worth this inn, as much as I am attached to it.”

“Is it bad I hope someone finds him and offs him?” John said after a moment.

“You and me both,” Greg said. Then he looked at Sherlock. “Is there any way we can try and find him? I mean, beyond what Scotland Yard is doing?”

Sherlock thought for a moment. “I suppose I could call my brother again and see if he would recommend anyone we could hire privately,” he said. “I just _really_ hate asking him for favors. He'll lord it over me for years to come.”

“Well, it would be worse if one or more of us died,” Irene said. “If he's going to be a prat you can go back to being estranged later, but get his help now before it costs us more than you're willing to pay.”

“You have a point,” Sherlock said quietly. “Very well. I'll go make the calls now.” He stood up, looking at them. “As soon as I have things set up I'll let all of you know.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Molly asked, looking up at him.

He nodded. “Yes. There may be decisions we both need to make, and you should be involved in these calls.” He watched her stand up as well and the two of them left the dining room. “Part of me regrets ever getting half this inn,” he said when they walked towards the front desk by the stairs.

“If you hadn't we never would have met,” she said quietly.

He stopped and looked at her. “Only a part of me regrets it. And I believe I would have met you eventually, though I will admit I don't know if things would have gone the same way. But the minute Marguerite started to ask for my help Moriarty began to circle this place, and when I became an owner he started his machinations to get this inn from me. I put everyone here in danger and nothing can convince me otherwise.”

She reached over and took his coffee from his hand and set it on the front desk, then set her own down. She moved over to him and hugged him tightly, and after a moment he hugged her back. “You didn't know he'd go to these lengths,” she said quietly. “You didn't know how ruthless and evil he is.”

“But I had an idea,” he murmured. “I should have refused to help Marguerite. I should have told her that if she asked for my help it would bring him into her orbit and it was best for everyone if I kept my distance.”

“That's not a way to live and you know it, Sherlock,” she said, pulling away and placing a hand on each side of his face. “He'll be stopped. I have faith in that.”

“But what if someone gets hurt in the meantime? Or worse, killed?” he asked.

“We'll make sure that doesn't happen. We'll do everything we can to keep everyone safe.” She watched him nod slowly and she gave him a small smile before moving her hands away. They went and picked up their coffee and made their way up to the office on the third floor. Sherlock made the calls, and finally some things were set up and he appeared to relax slightly. “So now what?” she asked when he hung up with the head of the security firm.

“We're on our own tonight, but tomorrow morning there will be people here,” he said. “And the private investigator will take the information I gave him and see what he can dig up. I feel better, a bit. Or at least I feel that I'm doing something. I hate feeling like I'm left at Moriarty's mercy.”

“The conversation with your brother seemed to go decently enough,” she said. “I mean, he was being helpful.”

“I think he might actually be concerned,” he said thoughtfully. “He knew about Moriarty; apparently he had tried to make bids for some properties that Mycroft's company ended up getting. The property that someone attempted to blow up was one Moriarty had fought hard to get. My brother had always assumed the plot would lead back to James Moriarty but he never had the proof. So he understands how dangerous a man Moriarty can be.”

“That's good, at least,” she said with a slight smile.

“He's said any help he can provide will be given. I think he's genuinely worried harm might come to me, though why he's suddenly becoming protective I don't understand.” He picked up the coffee he'd ignored while making the calls and took a sip before making a face. “It's cold.”

Molly chuckled. “It's been sitting there for nearly forty minutes, and it wasn't all that hot when you poured it. Do you want to reheat it or would you like a fresh cup?”

“I'd prefer a fresh cup and something to eat,” he said.

“Well, we can go to my apartment and take care of that,” she said as she stood up. “I'll even cook for you today.”

“That would be a treat,” he said as he stood as well. They left the office and made their way to her apartment. She let them in and he sat in what was now his favorite stool. She began to make them some fresh coffee. “I wish I knew why he was so focused on me,” he said quietly.

She took his cup and dumped the cold coffee down the drain before rinsing out the mug. “Does it matter right now?”

“I suppose it doesn't,” he said with a sigh. “But I'm curious.”

“I'm more scared of what he can do than I am curious about why he's doing it,” she said quietly. “It's about more than just the inn. I wonder if I'm going to have to keep living in fear, if our child is going to be a target. Irene has said that if he ends up in jail he's bought people. I hate to say it, but he might need to be dead before I feel completely safe.”

“Well, I just hope it isn't one of us who kills him. I don't want anyone to have to live with the guilt, or be imprisoned over it.”

“If it was one of us it would probably be in self-defense. I don't see any of us committing cold-blooded murder.” She went to her cabinet to pull out some ingredients for the breakfast she was planning on making.

“I would.” She looked at him sharply, her jaw hanging slightly. “If I thought it would keep you and our child safe and I thought I could get away with it, I'd kill him so he wouldn't be a threat.”

“Don't you dare do that!” she said. “If you end up in prison I'll...I'll...” She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “I'll find a way to make you regret it, that's what I'll do.”

“Well, since I don't think I could do it without getting caught it's not an issue.” When she opened her eyes she saw he had a slightly amused grin on his face. She glared, and his grin only got wider. “I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't joke about that.”

“No, you shouldn't,” she said in a huff before turning away from him. She could hear him get off the stool and come behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. “I don't want to think about you not being here. You promised me forever, remember? It doesn't do me any good if you're in prison.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I suppose it was a poor attempt at levity.”

“I want to feel safe again. I want to be able to move out of here into our home. I want to be able to take a walk around the village when I feel like it. I want my life back.” She reached up and grasped his arms in her hands. “I hate that man so much.”

“I hate him too,” he murmured before kissing the top of her head. She squeezed his arms once and then let go. He pulled away from her and went back to the stool, and she began gathering the ingredients she wanted. “What are you going to make?”

“Crepes with blackberry and raspberry sauce over them,” she said. “I don't make them often because they're a pain in the arse but I've been craving them for a week.”

“Pregnancy cravings?” he asked.

“Probably. I don't get the urge to make them more often than once or twice a year, and even then it's not a strong craving. This one was really strong.”

“Are you going to use the fresh berries I got you?”

She nodded. “I would have included the strawberries you got me but I ate all of them. Inhaled them, more like it. I think the entire package was gone in fifteen minutes.”

“Well, as I said, any cravings you have, let me know and I'll arrange to get the items for you.” He watched her begin to measure out the ingredients. “Are you craving any strange food combinations?”

She thought for a moment. “I made macaroni salad with canned tuna and pickle relish for a snack three days ago. I didn't eat it all at once, so I've been having some every once in a while. It actually tastes quite good cold.”

“I don't know if I'd actually consider that strange,” he said thoughtfully. “I would possibly eat that. I was thinking more pickles and ice cream mixed together.”

She chuckled. “No, nothing like that. And I still haven't gotten to see the obstetrician, so I'm just trying to be healthy until I can get an appointment. I'm not really sure what I'm allowed to eat and what I can't.”

“Well, there's always research you can do on the internet,” he said. “I already started doing some research myself on a few things, just so I could be more prepared.”

“Kind of a 'What To Expect When You're Expecting' type thing?” she asked with an amused smile.

“More or less,” he said with a nod. “And I've been talking to the women in my family. I'm sure if you have questions they'd be more than willing to answer them.”

“I hope so.” She went back to making the food quietly for a few minutes. Finally she glanced over at the coffee. “It should be done soon. I only made enough for two cups, and they're both yours.”

“You don't want more?” he asked with a frown.

“I honestly don't think I'm supposed to be drinking it, but I figured limiting myself to one cup isn't so bad. I'm going to miss coffee if I can't have it.”

“If it's the caffeine that's a problem you could always try decaffeinated coffee,” he said with a slight shrug.

“True,” she said thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly. “That way I don't have to give it up. That's a very good suggestion, Sherlock.”

“I try,” he said with a grin.

“Have you talked to your parents since last night?” she asked.

“I left a message for my father, and I'm fairly sure Mycroft will give him more details if he can't get a hold of me immediately,” he said as he watched her leave the food and move to the coffee machine. She pulled the pot out and poured him a mug, then put the pot back into its holder. “I'm still trying to figure out why he seems to care all of a sudden.”

“I can think of two very good reasons,” she said. “The first is that he realizes just how bad the threat is and how close he might come to losing you. He takes family loyalty to new heights, according to everyone in your family I've talked to, and the idea of losing any member of his immediate family is unsettling.”

“And the second reason?”

“He needs you alive just in case we have a girl,” she said with a smirk. “Because if we have a girl he's going to expect you to try again for a son.”

Sherlock chuckled at that as he began to fix his coffee. “The second reason seems much more plausible than the first.”

“I don't know, though. Maybe he's realizing that Moriarty being on the loose is bad for the entire family, not just you,” she replied.

“Perhaps.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Either way, I wouldn't be surprised if he also pays an unexpected visit in the near future. Just to see how things are going. And you might as well meet him anyway. You're going to be related to him, too, after the baby is born.”

“I'm both looking forward to and dreading that meeting,” she said as she shook her head. “I mean, the rest of your family approves, but from everything everyone else has said he seems to be quite the stick in the mud.”

“He very much is. I think my parents are losing hope that he'll loosen up and meet a nice woman and settle down. He's not getting any younger, and I think he's married to his work.”

“Maybe he'll surprise everyone,” she said with a smile. “You certainly did.”

“That is true, I suppose.” He finished fixing his coffee and looked at her. “Since we have the immediate problem taken care of, is there anything you especially want to do today?”

“Nothing that I can think of. If it's safe to leave the inn I'd like to go look at the house with the paint samples the painters left, see which ones I want to use in which room.” She looked over at him. “Do you think we could?”

“Probably,” he said with a nod. “As you heard when I talked to them there will be someone keeping watch over our home starting tomorrow. I'm still hesitant to move anything over there yet, except perhaps a few kitchen appliances for whoever is out there, in case they need coffee or food.”

“I think that's a great idea,” she said with a smile. She pointed to her coffeemaker. “We can send that one over and bring yours here today. And maybe you can move a few other things over here today, too.”

“I could be game for that,” he said as he grinned. “So let's plan on trying to finish getting the house situated and making this place more of our apartment rather than just yours. The furniture we can take care of once it's safe to go home.”

“I think that's a good idea. It's a good way to spend the day.” She went back to the breakfast she was making. “It's going to take a little while for all of this to be done so make yourself comfortable.”

“I will,” he said as he took a sip of his coffee. “I'll leave you alone while you make everything, if you want.”

“That might be best.” She grinned at him quickly then began really concentrating on the food, but after a moment her thoughts turned away from the breakfast and back to troubling thoughts, and when they did her grin faltered a bit. The bits of normalcy she had were what was getting her through this trying time, but she wasn't sure that it would be enough. If the problem wasn't taken care of soon she didn't know what she would do. She just wanted life to be able to move forward, to make plans, to have her life back. But it seemed the more they took precautions the more hemmed in she got. She knew without a doubt that bad things were going to happen, and she just hoped it wasn't anything so dire it couldn't be fixed. She had to hope for that, but she was worried her hope was wearing thin, and when it run out...she didn't want to think about what might happen when her hope ran out. She just prayed it didn't for quite a long time.


	16. Chapter 16

The security team who was going to keep an eye on the inn and Molly’s home came early the next morning. They were not local and arrangements were made for them to stay at the inn even though it was still under construction. All four men said the noises wouldn’t bother them if they were trying to sleep, and Molly got the feeling that they had been in combat before, or in situations where they had been surrounded by loud noises as they tried to work. Sally decided she’d make sure they were properly fed even though they had stopped serving the people in the village since she was adjusting to the new kitchen while the construction crew began revamping the dining area. Molly felt safer, she would admit that much. Having them there and knowing they could take care of a threat made her feel more secure that no matter what Moriarty tried it wouldn’t succeed.

They had been there for two weeks when they got a visitor. She was at the front desk with Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson and Greg, going over some changes Sherlock wanted to implement to see what everyone’s opinions were. They were still going over the details when the door opened. It wasn’t quite time for the workers to come in for lunch, and all four of them looked up. “We’re not open yet,” Greg called over as the man turned to shake his umbrella out before coming inside.

Sherlock shook his head. “It’s all right. I was expecting him to come by at some point,” he said, moving away from the desk.

“Is that your brother?” Molly asked.

Sherlock nodded as the man turned around. Molly could immediately see that he definitely took after his father, with a very similar face and the same straight dark hair. He was just as tall as Sherlock, so that was something else he inherited from that side of the family. Molly suspected if she saw what their grandfather looked like he’d look frighteningly similar to that dreadful man. Sherlock went over to him, and after a moment she moved closer. “Mycroft,” he said quietly.

Mycroft looked at him for a moment. “Sherlock. You look well.”

“I am well,” he said with a slight shrug. He turned to see Molly get closer, and he held out his hand behind him. She took that as the hint it was and came close to him, taking his hand in hers. “This is my fiancée, Molly Hooper.”

“Ms. Hooper,” Mycroft said, nodding his head in her direction. Then he turned back to his brother. “It’s cold out there.”

“I can make us some tea,” Molly said. “If you think that might help.”

“It would.” Mycroft looked around and finally spotted a place to put his wet umbrella. “Where are we going?”

“Third floor. That’s where the staff lives. But you should have remembered that,” Sherlock said.

“I was only here once, and remember that I didn’t really want to be here,” Mycroft replied.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Sherlock turned and made his way back to the front desk, still gripping Molly’s hand tightly. He looked at Greg and Mrs. Hudson. “We can finish our conversation later. If you have any improvements to what we’ve already discussed start thinking about them in more detail. I get the feeling this will not take very long.”

“Perhaps it will, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. “It doesn’t hurt to keep your family nice and close in times of trouble.”

Sherlock smiled back faintly. “Perhaps.”

“We’ll see if Sally needs any help in the kitchen, I think,” Greg said, and Mrs. Hudson nodded. The two of them came out from around the front desk. “Good luck,” he murmured as he got closer to Sherlock.

“Thank you,” he said with a nod. Then he glanced back at his brother. “Shall we?”

“Of course,” Mycroft said. Sherlock and Molly made their way to the stairs and began to climb them with Mycroft right behind them. They were quiet as they got to the second floor landing, and Molly glanced back to see Mycroft looking around. “This place seems to have improved since the last time I was here,” he said after a moment.

“My grandmother kept making small improvements over the years,” Molly said as they made their way to the stairs going up to the third floor. “We’ve made a few ourselves.”

“I think it will do you well,” he said approvingly. They lapsed into silence again as they made their way to the third floor. Without saying a word Sherlock steered them to Molly’s apartment, and she got her key out of her pocket and let the three of them in. Mycroft looked around. “This is definitely not your home, dear brother.”

“It’s starting to be,” he said with a slightly sour tone. “To be honest, I like this place quite a bit exactly as it is.”

“You would,” Mycroft said with just an air of attitude. Sherlock glared slightly and Mycroft narrowed his eyes in response, as though he was just waiting for Sherlock to say something snide so he could respond in kind.

Molly’s eyes darted between Sherlock and Mycroft. “Can I make a small request of the two of you?” she asked.

“Of course,” Sherlock said, looking at her.

“Be civil. You two don’t have to act like you’re best friends, but play nice today. I don’t think my nerves can take a row between the two of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Mycroft said with a nod. “This must be hard on all of you.”

“It is,” Molly said with a nod. “As it stands I’m not sleeping through the night and I’m constantly on edge. So I don’t want any added stress because the two of you can’t get along.”

Sherlock nodded, then came over to her and leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be nice to my brother while he’s here,” he said.

She gave him a smile. “Thank you.”

He grinned back, then reached for her hand and squeezed it once. When he let go he turned to his brother, who had a quizzical look on his face. “We might as well make ourselves comfortable,” he said.

Mycroft nodded. “Do you have any preference as to where you want to sit?”

“Next to Molly, which means we should take the sofa.”

“Very well,” Mycroft said. He went to one of the chairs and sat down. Sherlock sat over on the sofa and looked at his brother. Mycroft looked back, appearing to study him. “Father and Mummy had said you’d changed. I didn’t realize quite how much.”

“I’ve had a good reason to,” he said with a slight shrug. “Molly is a very good influence, I’ve found. I want to make her happy, and I like the man I’ve become since she came into my life.”

“I know our parents are pleased with the changes. They wish to see similar ones in me,” Mycroft said sourly.

“Well, they want the best for us. They don’t want either of us to be alone,” Sherlock replied with a shrug. “It wouldn’t hurt you, at any rate. There has to be some woman in the world you’d change for.”

“I don’t particularly want to change, but I suppose it’s inevitable,” he said, sighing. “I should do my duty, after all.”

“Life isn’t always about duty,” Molly said from the kitchen as she plugged in the now full kettle. “I mean, if it was no one would want to live because living for duty is so…” She paused, trying to think of what to say.

“Boring? Devoid of meaning? Soul sucking?” Mycroft said with a faint smile. “Trust me, there are days I feel that my life has become a chore, that I only live to work.”

“That’s really no way to live,” she said as she came over to the sitting room. “My life was like that for a while, and I’ve found that once I got out of the tedium of living for my work I enjoyed life a lot more.” She sat down next to Sherlock. “I’m fairly sure you know all about the time between when I stopped working for St. Bartholomew’s and when I came here and started running the inn.”

Mycroft nodded. “Yes, I do. I didn’t quite understand why you would give up a promising career until I found out about the incident with the man pretending to be dead and his partner.”

“It was more than that, though. My life had become nothing more than the demands of others and the tedium of my job. Once I left I was adrift for a while, but I learned new things. I spent time with people I never thought I would. I strengthened the few friendships I had. It was a good time for me, and even though I lost my Nana and that’s the reason I came here, this was still a good thing too.” She looked at Sherlock and gave him a smile, getting one in return. “Even with all the problems I don’t regret anything.”

When she turned back she saw Mycroft giving his brother a curious look. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen you with a genuine smile on your face. I think the last time you were ten years old.”

“To be honest, I never had much reason to smile until recently,” he said. “I took everything very seriously for a long time. I took no pleasure in my life. Now I’m happy and it shows.”

Mycroft nodded. “Yes, it certainly does. I can see I will never convince you to join the company now.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to before,” he pointed out. “You’ve been trying for years without success.”

“Well, I had hoped when I left I would be able to keep it in the family,” he said. “I do not think that will be an option now. Any children you two might have will probably be attached to this inn and want to have a life here.”

“That isn’t necessarily the case,” Molly said. “My mother wanted absolutely nothing to do with this place. She left for London as soon as she had a good enough reason. Our children might decide they want something more than running an inn in a small village. You never know.”

“I’ll concede that,” Mycroft said as he inclined his head slightly. “As it stands, though, I don’t think your children will be old enough to be in charge by the time I leave the company.”

Sherlock’s eyes widened. “That’s a surprise.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Do not tell Father and Mummy, but I had a health scare two months ago. I went to the hospital for chest pains and shortness of breath and my physician said I was having a heart attack. I was taken into surgery and two stints were put in my heart. I’m fine now, but it took a lot out of me and it’s left me reconsidering what I want out of life.” 

“Why didn’t you tell any of us?” Sherlock asked, shaking his head. “That’s not the type of thing you keep from your family.”

“It was a sign of weakness,” Mycroft said quietly. 

“Mycroft…” Sherlock began. He shut his eyes. “How close were we to losing you?” he asked quietly.

“If I had not been at the hospital already I would have died.”

“We came close to losing you and you don’t even have the decency to let us know?” Sherlock said, opening his eyes and glaring at his brother. “Tell Mum and Dad. Tell them _now_.”

“Right now?” Mycroft asked, blinking.

“ _Right now._ ” Sherlock pulled out his mobile. “I’ll even dial them for you.”

“There’s no need,” he said with a sigh, pulling out his own phone. He stood up. “I suppose I should make this call in private.”

“My bedroom is down the hall, straight ahead,” Molly said.

“Thank you,” Mycroft said, and he made his way there.

“Of all the selfish, stupid, _pig-headed_ things he could have done,” Sherlock said in a huff. “He nearly died and he didn’t think to tell any of us.”

“Calm down,” Molly said gently, putting one of her hands on top of his, which was balled up in a fist. She squeezed it until he unclenched his fist. “He’s always thought he had to be strong and stoic. Facing your own weakness is hard, and he probably didn’t want to have other people think he was weak. He told you now, though. He told you before he told anyone else. Think about that for a moment before you get too angry at him.”

Sherlock’s anger seemed to deflate slightly. “I just can’t believe he almost died,” he said quietly, hanging his head. “He’s always been there. Disapproving and stern, but he’s been there. I don’t…” He sighed. “I don’t want to think about him _not_ being there, even if we aren’t particularly close.”

Molly let go of his hand and leaned over to embrace him. “Then use this to rebuild your relationship with him,” she said quietly as he embraced her back. “Put an end to the estrangement and maybe then you’ll get that wish of yours where your entire family can be in the same room with each other and nothing hurtful is said.”

“Perhaps,” he said. They stayed like that for some time before the kettle began to whistle and he pulled away. “There are times I think you are much smarter than me.”

She chuckled as she got up. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I just listen to my heart more.” She went into the kitchen as Mycroft came out of her bedroom. “How did it go?” she asked him.

“Better than I had expected. They’re concerned, but grateful the worst is over.” He went back to where he had been sitting, looking at Sherlock. “Is it safe for the two of you to leave the inn?”

“Possibly,” Sherlock said slowly. “Why?”

“Father and Mummy are at Bradbury Place with our grandmothers. They want us both there for supper tonight, if that’s possible. They understand that things are very precarious here at the moment.”

“It’s up to Molly,” Sherlock said, looking at her.

“I would like to go,” she said with a smile as she began to make the tea. “I know your mother was telling me that they were planning on moving in this week.”

“They already have,” Mycroft said. “They got settled in two days ago. Mummy is looking at this as a housewarming event, and she would like the entire family there.” He looked over at his brother. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior around Catherine.”

“I would appreciate it. I think once you get to know her you’ll find she’s a good woman,” Sherlock said. “She doesn’t deserve to be hated by anyone, let alone her family.”

“Our parents have told me much the same thing.” He nodded towards Molly. “About earlier. I meant no disrespect to your home. It must suit your taste. It’s just not what I expected for a place my brother is going to call home, though I expect I know him less well than either of us would like.”

“It’s all right,” Molly said with a smile. “I wasn’t offended. Sometimes I’m surprised Sherlock likes this place so much. I prefer his sitting room furniture and his art to my own.”

“I expect I’ll be getting to know the both of you better now,” Mycroft said.

“Probably, depending on how often you come here. I mean, you’d be welcome.” Mycroft’s eyes widened slightly at her statement. “You’re going to be the only uncle our child has. You should get to know him or her better. And that means you get to learn more about the two of us in the process.”

“I imagined you wouldn’t like me very much,” Mycroft admitted.

“Oh, the way everyone talked about you I assumed you were a prat,” she said with a chuckle. “But then I realized I didn’t actually know you so I shouldn’t judge you without meeting you first.”

“And your opinion of me now?”

“I don’t think you’re that bad,” she said. “Maybe a little prideful, but definitely not as much of a prat as I thought you’d be. The fact you’re actively helping Sherlock with our problem softened my opinion quite a bit.”

“Well, I don’t want anything to happen to him,” Mycroft replied.

“Because we might be having a girl?” Sherlock asked with an amused smile.

Molly watched him glare for a moment before he turned to look at his brother, and then the glare softened. “No. Because you are family, and no one in the family deserves to be terrorized by a psychopath.”

Sherlock’s grin dropped a bit. “He really is one. And I’m not sure what else I can do to protect everyone here.”

“You’ve taken good first steps,” Mycroft said. “But, sadly, I can’t think of anything else to do. You have people guarding the place and you have a private investigator trying to track him down. But if I can think of anything else I will tell you straight away.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said with a nod.

“You’re welcome.”

Molly watched them for a moment with a smile on her face. This was a good first step, she realized. “How do you take your tea, Mycroft?” she asked.

“Sugar and milk,” he said.

She went to go get the sugar container and then put the small container for milk on the tray before getting the milk out. She set up the tea tray and then brought it out to the two of them. “When do your parents want us there for supper?”

“By five,” Mycroft said. “It isn’t that far of a drive.”

“We can all drive out together, I suppose,” Sherlock said. “My vehicle is roomy enough for you to sit in the back, Mycroft.”

Mycroft considered it for a moment. “I suppose I can tell my driver to wait here in the village until I return. If I plan to stay overnight is there any other accommodations in this village?”

“There’s another inn here, though it’s smaller. But they usually have three rooms open around this time of year,” Molly said as she poured them each a cup of tea. “Maybe you should have him make arrangements, just in case. I mean, if it gets late I don’t mind staying overnight. Do you mind, Sherlock?”

He shook his head. “I don’t mind in the slightest. It will be nice to spend an extended amount of time with my entire family. I get the feeling it will not happen again for some time.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Mycroft said. “I don’t think I would be averse to reconnecting with my family more. At least, I’m fairly sure I won’t. We’ll see how tonight goes.”

“Who knows? Maybe one day you’ll consider leaving London, too,” Molly said. Mycroft made a shocked face and both Molly and Sherlock laughed. “I said one day, not today.”

“I don’t think I’d ever do well away from London,” Mycroft said, shaking his head.

Molly was about to reply when there was a knock on her door. “Let me get that.” She stood up and went to the door, opening it and seeing Irene there. “Is something wrong?” she asked, concerned.

Irene looked at her and saw Mycroft, and her eyes widened slightly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you had company. Sally just realized we don’t have enough of some of the food for supper and we need to order more, but Marcus said he needs to talk to Sherlock about the bill.”

“I’ll handle that,” Sherlock said with a nod, getting up. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Thank you,” Irene said as he got closer.

“You can say hello, Irene,” Mycroft said softly, and his brother stopped in his tracks.

“You two know each other?” Sherlock asked, looking from Mycroft to Irene, who actually blushed slightly. “Very well, I take it.”

“Before she met you, I assure you,” Mycroft said.

“Yes. We were good friends,” she said quietly. “I would have told you when everything between us happened, but it wasn’t my place, and...it was complicated”

Sherlock sighed and hung his head. “And this is why I am very glad our relationship didn’t go very far,” he said. Then he looked up at Irene again. “I’m taking it I don’t want to know details.”

“No, probably not,” Irene said. Then she stepped in and looked at Mycroft. “Are you staying in the village for a while?”

“I could be persuaded to extend my visit,” he said slowly.

Sherlock shook his head. “I’m going to leave now. You two can sort this out on your own.”

Molly had an amused smile on her face as she stood up. “I think I’m going to head downstairs with Sherlock. I just made some tea, Irene. You can have my cup. I haven’t fixed it up yet.”

“Thank you,” she said, giving Molly a smile.

“You’re welcome.” Molly made her way over to Sherlock and then the two of them left. The amused smile got wider as she caught the scowl on his face. “I feel so sorry for you right now,” she said with a chuckle.

“She never let on. Even after all these years. Her and my brother?” He shook his head. “That gave me thoughts I don’t really need in my head.”

“Do you think he was one of her clients?” Molly asked thoughtfully.

“Probably. But I don’t even want to think about that. I just…no.” He shut his eyes and stopped. “This is going to make any time all of us are together incredibly awkward now.”

“I can imagine.” She reached over for his hand and squeezed it before she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “But look on the bright side.”

“What possible bright side could there be?” he asked, opening his eyes and looking at her.

“You could have found this out after the two of you got married.”

He was quiet for a moment, and then he grinned slightly. “Yes, I suppose there is that.”

“See?” She moved forward, pulling on his hand slightly. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we?”

“Fine, fine,” he said quietly as he moved forward. “I still can’t get over that, though.”

“I think it’s going to be some time until you can,” she said with a chuckle. She had to admit, she hadn’t expected the day to take the twists and turns it had, but at least things hadn’t gone poorly. She was grateful for that.


	17. Chapter 17

The gathering of Sherlock's entire family had gone exceedingly well, even if Sherlock was still side-eying his brother about the entire situation involving Irene. Both men and Molly kept that to themselves, even when other members of the family pressed. Sherlock had reasoned if Mycroft ever wanted the family to know the details he would tell them himself, and while he thought that day might never come the fact that Mycroft decided on an extended trip to Bradbury Place and had made it a point to come back to the inn with them the next day had Molly convinced that day might come sooner than Sherlock thought.

Moriarty had made no further move to harass or intimidate the people at the inn, and while Molly felt safer she was just waiting for him to put some diabolical plan into motion. She tried valiantly to sleep each night but failed miserably, and she found herself becoming increasingly short tempered with everyone and just plain tired throughout the day. The only complete night of sleep she had gotten since Moriarty had sent the people to try and torch the other building had been the night she'd spent at Bradbury Place, and even then she had woken up feeling guilty that she had gotten to leave the inn and be somewhere safe while everyone else was stuck there.

It was a week later when she was in the kitchen working with Sally on the lunch menu for the workers that Greg came in with a grin. “You have company. A lot of it,” he said to Molly.

“How much company, exactly?” Molly asked, her eyes wide.

“Sherlock's entire family. Catherine, Annabelle, Victoria, Jonathan and even Mycroft. Sherlock's already out there and he just begged me to come get you.”

Molly chuckled and wiped her hands on the dishtowel. “Can you go find John and have him come down to help Sally? I'll go rescue my fiancée from his family.”

“I will. And Sherlock will be most appreciative.” Greg left the kitchen at that point to the sound of Sally's chuckle.

“Oh, I feel for the man. The most he's gotten at once before you two went to his father's home was two,” Sally said as she shook her head. “Now the whole family is here?”

“It's a good thing everyone is getting along,” Molly said with a smile. “I think Sherlock's honestly very happy for that.”

“I can imagine. Now he doesn't have to feel like he's being pulled between them.” Sally pointed to Molly's face. “You have flour on your cheeks.”

“Really?” she asked. “We need to put a mirror in here or something.” She grabbed the dishtowel and rubbed it on her face. “Better?”

Sally nodded. “If all of you go out somewhere you should probably change. You have flour on your shirt, too.”

“Damn,” Molly muttered. “Sherlock is going to look impeccable and I'm going to look a mess.”

“Everyone out there knows you're probably hard at work back here. If you look a bit out of sorts I don't think anyone is going to judge you for it. Besides, I think they all adore you. About the only way you could ruin that is to break Sherlock's heart.”

“Well, I don't plan on ever doing that,” she said with a smile. She straightened her shoulders. “Might as well go out there and see what plans everyone has for us.”

“Go enjoy yourself. You deserve a day to just relax.” Sally's smile faltered slightly. “We all know this is hitting you hard.”

“I'm sorry if I've been a beast lately. I don't mean to be short-tempered,” Molly replied.

“Well, a day with a family that loves you just as much as they love the man you're marrying will probably do you a world of good.” She nodded towards the door. “Go on and rescue Sherlock. I'm sure he's wondering what's taking so long.”

Molly gave her a wider grin and took off her apron, hanging it on the peg before smoothing down her shirt and heading out to the foyer. She could hear excited chatter which only got louder the closer she got to the front desk. She saw everyone standing there, almost all talking at once, and she smiled. All these people were going to be her family, the family she'd always wanted, she thought to herself. She was lucky to have them. “I am so sorry it took so long to get out here,” she said above the happy chatter. Everyone turned to look at her and Sherlock gave her the most grateful look she had ever seen cross his face.

“You look like you were quite busy in the kitchen,” Annabelle said with a chuckle.

“I was making the dough for meat pasties. I think I made enough to feed all the workers and the men doing security here. If not John will have to do it.” She smiled at everyone. "If we're going somewhere I'd like to change first. What are the plans for the afternoon?"

“Well, that's what we were trying to figure out,” Catherine said as Molly got closer. “Other than coming to Bradbury Place the two of you have been cooped up here, afraid to leave. There's safety in numbers and we thought it might be nice to go out into the village. But that's where we stopped agreeing.”

“Well, who wants to do what?” Molly asked as she stood next to Sherlock.

“Catherine was thinking it might be nice to show off her new home,” Sherlock said. “Annabelle said if we did that she would cook for us. My mother wanted to go to one of the restaurants, and my father wanted to go to another. Mycroft won't be joining us, though, from the sounds of it.” He added the last bit with a smirk.

“He says he was here for a previous engagement with someone else,” Victoria said, narrowing her eyes towards her oldest son.

Mycroft looked slightly uncomfortable. “Yes. I have a...date,” he said, finishing the sentence rather lamely.

“Sally's seeing one of the construction crew blokes,” Annabelle said. “And Molly's engaged to your brother.” Then she glanced at Catherine and their eyes widened as they gasped. “That just leaves Irene Adler,” she said incredulously.

Mycroft looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him up, and Molly happened to glance at Sherlock. Her fiancée looked so smug that she elbowed him in the ribs. He looked over at Molly sharply. “What was that for?” he asked quietly.

“Stop enjoying your brother's discomfort,” she said, giving him a stern look.

“Irene and I knew each other before her relationship with Sherlock,” he replied. “We've renewed our acquaintance.”

Victoria looked from Mycroft to Sherlock and back to Mycroft, her eyes wide. “So you knew her before she dated Sherlock? And now the two of you are going out on a date? But...”

“It's complicated,” Sherlock said, taking pity on his brother. “But I do not have an issue with it. Irene isn't that bad of a woman these days. She has changed a lot in ten years. If she and Mycroft want to renew their acquaintance I have no objections.”

Mycroft gave him a grateful look that rivaled the one Sherlock had given Molly moments earlier. “We were quite close. I know what she did to Sherlock and the circumstances behind it, and I find she regrets it. If he has no objections I should hope no one else does as well.”

“She should come with us,” Catherine said. Everyone turned to stare at her. “The only things we've heard about her have come from Sherlock, and ten years ago they weren't that pleasant. I'd like the chance to get to know her better if she really has changed.”

“That probably isn't the best idea,” Mycroft said, glancing at Sherlock, who nodded. “It's only been a week since we've renewed our acquaintance.”

“I agree with Catherine,” Victoria said. “I want to meet her.”

“Maybe you should give them a little more time to figure out what's going on between them,” Molly suggested. “After all, Sherlock got months with me before most of you got to meet me, and we were already fairly serious about each other at that point.” She looked at Mycroft and he mouthed “thank you” to her. She gave him and everyone else a smile. “There's no point in overwhelming her with all of you at once.”

“It's all right,” Irene said from the stairs, giving them a smile. “You must be Mycroft's family. I'm the infamous Irene Adler.”

“She's quite pretty,” Jonathan said quietly to Sherlock.

“I won't disagree with that,” Sherlock said with a nod. Then he turned to Irene. “This visit was a surprise to Mycroft, Molly and I as well.”

“Well, I would love to meet all of you,” she said. “I know most of you do not have the best opinion of me. I am truly sorry for what I did to Sherlock, I am. But I was being blackmailed by the same man who is causing all the trouble now. I did it because he was forcing me to, but I grew to really like Sherlock and so I hurt him to protect him. Apparently I didn't do a good enough job.”

“Why would he be blackmailing you?” Victoria asked.

Irene glanced over at Mycroft, then to Sherlock and Molly, before taking a deep breath. “I used to be a dominatrix,” she said. “I only did it to put myself through university, but I was considered one of the best in London, so I stayed for a while after I got my degree. But after a time I decided I wanted a normal job and a normal life so I left the profession. I tried to go into the business field but Jim Moriarty found me and said he would have people ruin my name unless I worked for him, seducing business owners to turn over their properties to him. I didn't have a choice.”

Molly looked at everyone's faces as they took in the news. She saw shock was evident on everyone's faces other than Sherlock and Mycroft's, and she just hoped that no one would say anything really bad. Finally, after a few moments of silence Victoria spoke. “Well, he just seems to be even more of a monster than we originally thought,” she said.

Irene relaxed. “He is. The reason I'm here is he tried to kill me when I attempted to help Sherlock by telling him what Jim's plans were. Sherlock in turn saved my life by bringing me here and keeping me hidden from him. He's a true psychopath, I think. He terrifies me.”

Jonathan glanced to Mycroft for a moment. It was clear to Molly that everyone standing there knew exactly what kind of relationship Irene and Mycroft had had before Irene began dating Sherlock, but it didn't look as though anyone was going to comment on it. Then he looked back at Irene and gave her a small smile. “I'm glad you're safe, then. We'll let you and Mycroft have your time alone together today.”

“Thank you,” Mycroft said gratefully. He looked over to Irene. “Shall we?”

Irene nodded, giving him a wide smile. “Of course.” She made her way over to him and after that the two of them made their way to the door and left.

Catherine turned to look at Sherlock and Molly. “So you two knew?”

“About her former profession?” Sherlock asked. She nodded. “Only recently. I managed to get her alone when Moriarty made his first visit to the village five months ago and she told me the truth. I promised her I would try and break his hold over her.”

“That was a twist I wasn't expecting,” Annabelle said thoughtfully. “But in all honesty he could do much worse. At least she knows what will make him happy.”

“Mum!” Victoria said, her voice aghast. “We don't know for certain.”

“Oh, no, I'm fairly sure we all _do_ ,” Annabelle said. “Personally I don't have a problem with it, but then again I'm only his grandmother.”

Victoria hung her head slightly. “I can't believe you said that,” she murmured.

“Well, it's the truth,” Annabelle said.

“I don't have much of a problem with it either, to be honest,” Jonathan said thoughtfully. “Victoria, when was the last time we saw Mycroft take an interest in any woman?”

Victoria lifted her head up and looked at her husband, thinking. “A very long time. At least twenty years, I think.”

“Then I think it's a very good thing he's taking an interest in her, regardless of what their history is,” he said. “And the fact she was honest with us counts for something.”

“I suppose it does,” she said thoughtfully. “And it's not as though we're incredibly judgmental. I'll get used to it eventually, I think, as long as she doesn't hurt him. If she does that then I'll go back to hating her.”

“That's a good point of view to have,” Jonathan said, leaning over to kiss her cheek softly. “So since we never found out what their plans were, I change my vote to going over to Catherine's new home and having Annabelle cook for us. At least that way we don't inadvertently crash their date.”

“I think that sounds splendid,” Molly said with a smile as the door opened again. Everyone turned and Molly's heart sank. “Oh no,” she groaned as she saw her mother standing there. “Not now.”

“You've been told you're not welcome here,” Sherlock said, moving away from Molly and going to Melinda. “I will not let you threaten Molly.”

Melinda glared at him. “You have no say in any of this. It's a family matter.”

“I will be family soon enough,” he said as he got close.

“You're actually going to _marry_ her?” she asked incredulously. She looked back at her daughter. “What did he do, get you pregnant?” Molly looked away for a moment. “Oh my God. You actually were that stupid. So now you're going to use him up for all he's worth, is that it? Force him to do the right thing?”

“She's not forcing my son to do anything,” Jonathan said coldly.

Her eyes widened for a moment, and then narrowed as she looked at the man who was supposed to be her stepbrother. “Jonathan. What a not-so-pleasant surprise.”

“I feel the same way, Melinda,” he said coldly.

“You're actually okay with all this? I thought you would have taught your son better. After all, your family cares about _status_ so much. He's marrying beneath himself. Isn't that what your father told my mother?”

Jonathan moved towards her. “Ever since I heard my son and your daughter were dating I thanked God that my father had been a weak enough man not to marry your mother. Mind you, I loved Marguerite very much. Certainly more than you ever did. But if I'd had to be related to a harpy like you I would have done you considerable harm the older we got and you would have deserved it completely.”

“And you think you're so much better than me?” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “Everything you ever had you had handed to you on a golden platter. Everyone loved you because you were worth a fortune. Hell, my mother certainly thought better of you than she thought of me. Do you know what it's like to be second best? To know your mother loves a brat rich boy more than her own flesh and blood?”

“The golden platter part may have been true when I was a child, but he cut me off without a cent when I decided to marry for love instead of duty. Everything I am now, every cent I am worth, I worked to get on my own. What did you ever do? You married someone who deserved better than you but loved you anyway, and you weren't thankful at all. I'm fairly sure you made his life absolutely miserable. And you treated a young girl with utter contempt simply because she was your responsibility.”

“She wasn't a responsibility. She was a burden,” Melinda spat out.

He advanced on her. “I swear to God himself that if you don't want Molly as your daughter, if you want to curse her and harass her and threaten her and try and ruin her life the way you ruined your own, I will make sure you regret it. I respect her greatly for having a vindictive bitch like you for a mother and turning into a loving and caring person despite being related to you. And if you don't want to claim her as your daughter than I'll make sure the family she's marrying into loves her enough that not having your love won't matter. I'll make sure she's treated the way you should have been treating her.”

Melinda blinked, her jaw hanging down. “She owes me,” she said weakly.

“She doesn't owe you a damn thing,” Annabelle said, going to Molly's side and putting an arm around her shoulders. “She's better off without you. We'll make sure she knows she's loved, and we'll make sure her children don't ever have to worry about whether their mother and father and grandparents and great-grandparents actually love them.”

“You don't need to be a part of her life,” Victoria said. “We'll make sure we're family enough for her.” She moved over to Molly's other side and took her hand. “Whatever you thought would happen here today, whatever you thought you could wheedle out of her or my son, turn around and go home and forget you ever had her.”

“You'll regret this,” Melinda said.

“I think the only thing we'll regret is that we didn't boot you out the door before you opened your mouth,” Jonathan said. “You're still a vile woman. You've spewed enough hatred in my presence for one day. Harass her again and I swear it will be the last thing you're capable of doing.”

“Is that a threat?” Melinda asked incredulously.

Jonathan nodded. “One I will have great pleasure in fulfilling.”

Melinda took in the scene. Molly knew Catherine had moved behind her, and Victoria kept a tight grip on her hand while Annabelle pulled her close to her side. Sherlock and Jonathan looked terrifyingly grim. With a look of defeat she shook her head. “I hope all of you are happy with the rubbish you're taking in.”

“She's not rubbish,” Catherine said. “But I expect someone who _is_ rubbish wouldn't know that. Regardless, we know we're making the right choice. If you're smart you'll leave and never come back, because I think Jonathan will gladly follow through on his threat, and he'll do it with the utmost glee.”

“So leave. Now,” Sherlock said, moving to the door and opening it all the way. Melinda turned and walked to the door. She paused as she got to Sherlock, then leaned in and whispered something. The look of rage on his face was instantaneous and Molly could tell it was all he could do not to haul off and hit her. Then she straightened up and stalked out the door. He closed it hard, and shut his eyes to calm himself down. “Dad, that threat. Was it going to involve having her murdered?” he asked quietly.

“No. I was thinking more absolute ruin,” he said. “Why?”

“Do it.” He opened his eyes and looked at Molly. “Ruin her life completely.”

“What did she say?” Molly asked, lifting her head up from Annabelle's shoulder.

“She said she'd pray we lost the baby.” Her eyes went wide, and she felt a lump in her throat. Sherlock moved over to her swiftly and his mother and grandmother moved away from her so he could hold her close. She reached up and clung to him, beginning to cry. “I won't let anything happen to either of you,” he said quietly, smoothing her hair back. “I swear.”

She nodded slightly, and she felt two other people place comforting hands on her shoulders and someone else rubbing her back. After a few minutes she pulled away from Sherlock and looked at the three women who were comforting her, and all three of them enveloped her in a hug of their own. “I don't deserve any of you,” she said when they all pulled apart.

“Don't you ever think that,” Victoria said adamantly. “We are so proud to have you join the family, Molly. I couldn't ask for a better daughter-in law.” She gave Molly a reassuring smile. “I think our plans can wait for a bit. Why don't we go upstairs and get you a fortifying cup of tea? I know I could use one myself.”

“I think that sounds like a very good idea,” Annabelle said. She gave Molly a warm smile. “Let us take care of you, all right?”

Molly nodded. “All right.” She gave them a small smile, and Sherlock moved back over to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him as they all made their way to the stairs, heading to her apartment. She realized she was incredibly lucky, and incredibly loved, and she would be honored to be a part of their family. She knew she was going to love all these people to the day she died, and they were going to love her in return, and that knowledge would get her through so much.


	18. Chapter 18

She had hoped things would get better after the second unexpected visit from her mother. They had in a way, in that everyone in Sherlock's family showered her with as much love as they could, and it had truly warmed her heart after her mother's hateful comments. But there was a sense of uneasiness that settled on her, and she found she was nervous and anxious that something big was going to happen and it was going to happen soon.

Three days after the second visit from her mother Molly woke up incredibly early in the morning. Sherlock was still sound asleep so she went out into her kitchen to make tea. She could make that without waking him up, she'd found, and there was a comfort in having a cup of tea and doing some thinking. She set about filling the kettle with water and putting it on the stove before going to her favorite chair and sitting in it. There had to be _something_ they could do, she thought to herself. Some way they could draw him out and still keep everyone safe, some way they could end this whole hellish experience and not lose anyone important. The longer it went on the less she thought her sanity would be intact when the end finally arrived.

She made the tea quietly once the kettle started whistling and poured herself a cup, only to see Sherlock padding out of her room when she looked up. “I tried not to wake you,” she said with a sad smile as she set her cup down and began to make some coffee.

“I can always tell when you're not asleep next to me,” he said, yawning. He lowered his arm and glanced at his watch. “When did you finally go to sleep last night?”

“Three in the morning,” she said quietly.

“And it's only seven right now,” he said with a frown. “You can't keep this up much longer.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “It's almost like I'm just going through the motions, or doing things on autopilot. I want to sleep, but the thoughts keep me awake and then the dreams scare me back awake.”

“I won't let him hurt you,” he said quietly.

“How can you protect me if we don't know where he is?” she asked. “I mean, we have to wait for him to come out of hiding. I can't do much more waiting, I just can't.”

“I don't know what else to do,” he said quietly, sitting down on one of the stools. “I could take you away again but the problem would still be here when we get back.”

“I know,” she said quietly, hanging her head. “I'm terrified something is going to happen. Not even with Moriarty, either. I'm worried with all the stress something might happen to the baby. I'm not taking good care of myself, I know that, but it's like I can't stop worrying.”

“Perhaps my parents will let you stay at Bradbury Place for a while,” he said thoughtfully. “I can stay here to keep an eye on things, and you can take some time to try and relax.”

“That would just be hiding out somewhere else,” she said quietly. “And what about everyone here? I'd be leaving everyone, running away.”

“Everyone else is just as concerned about you,” he said. “You aren't the only one who's worried the stress is going to harm the baby. Sally and Lestrade are very concerned, and Watson and I have spoken about things. If you were to leave for a bit no one would think less of you.”

“I'd think less of myself, though,” she said quietly.

She could hear him get off the stool and come over towards her. She felt him wrap his arms around her and she held him close, trying to take in some of his strength. “If you don't want to I won't make you,” he said. “But I think it really would be best.”

“Maybe,” she said with a sigh. “Let's see how I feel later tonight, all right?”

“All right,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. They stayed like that for quite some time, and when the coffee was ready he let her go. He poured himself a cup, and then looked at her. “Do you want some?”

“Maybe later. I made tea. I should probably drink that first.” She went back over to the counter and picked up her cup. “What do we need to do today?”

“Even with us not reopening right away there's still things we need to plan for. The construction will most likely be finished this week on the other building, and we need to make sure everything is up to code and then we need to start ordering the furniture and such to fill the rooms. And a few people have expressed interest in being hired here once it looks as though we'll reopen. You should look at their applications.”

She nodded. “Let's eat first and then let's get to work. I think I'm going to need to keep myself busy today.”

“All right.” They sipped their drinks in silence, and then he began to make them breakfast. There was not much conversation done then, and she hated every moment of not feeling as though she could talk to him. They had always been able to talk so easily, and now that he was worried so much there seemed to be a gulf coming between them. He wanted to protect her, she knew that, but she didn't want to abandon everyone else. This was going to pose a problem for them. 

Once they were done eating they retired to the office. She went to the desk and began looking at the things he told her to look at, and the two of them talked a few things over to make decisions. She left around eleven to go help make the lunches for the day, and when she came back up she found he was still hard at work. She had brought them both up some food and they ate as they worked. She kept it up for another two hours before she finally realized all the things she was looking at were blurring together because she was exhausted. She looked over at Sherlock, who was sitting in the chair across from her looking over more paperwork. She could barely suppress her yawn. “I think I'm going to take a nap,” she said, standing up and moving around the desk. “If they need me in the kitchen to prep for supper come wake me up, all right?”

“I might pitch in just so you can sleep some more,” he said with a small grin. “Getting only four hours of sleep is getting to you, isn't it?”

“I feel exhausted,” she said with a nod. “But if you get some time you can always join me. Even though I'm not sleeping well I seem to sleep better when I'm curled up with you. I might be able to take a longer nap that way.”

He looked at the paperwork he was studying, and then put it on the desk. “I could lay down with you for a while,” he said as he stood up.

“Isn't the paperwork important?”

“It is, but I can spare an hour or two. I'd much rather help you get some sleep.” He held out his hand to her and she grasped it, giving him a smile. They made their way out of the office and towards her apartment. She put her key in the lock but the door opened on its own. “Stay out here,” he murmured, pushing the door open slightly. He stepped inside, looking around. After a moment he made his way towards her bedroom.

She heard the door to John's apartment behind her open up, and she turned to see Moriarty standing there with a gun that had a silencer on it. Her eyes went wide. “What are you doing?” she asked, trying to remain calm.

“I'm done with getting other people to make my points,” he said, getting closer to her. “The two imbeciles couldn't commit a simple act of arson, and then one of the security staff balked at trying to kill Irene in her sleep, even though I told him he'd be handsomely rewarded. So I figured I'd take care of a few things at once, only Irene isn't here. Wonder where she's at?”

“She's out with Mycroft Holmes” Molly said as he got closer, the gun trained right at her abdomen. If he shot her there they would lose the baby, she was sure of it. “She's under his protection.”

“I guess he never did let her go,” Moriarty said with a slight sneer on his lips. “I suppose I'll have to kill them both, after I take care of you and your fiancée.” He motioned with the gun to go into her flat. She did, moving backwards so she could keep an eye on Moriarty. Once they were inside he motioned for her to sit on the sofa. She had thought for sure Sherlock would hear them by now. “I bet you're wondering what I did to your precious Sherlock,” he said.

She nodded slowly as she sat down. “Yes, I am.”

“He's a bit...indisposed. A sharp blow to the back of the head will knock you out. Maybe there will be some damage, maybe there won't.” He shrugged. “Hopefully not, because when he wakes up he has to sign his shares of this inn over to me or I'm going to kill you and the baby with two shots. You can sign yours over now, though.”

He pointed to the coffee table in front of her sofa and she saw legal documents there. She picked one of the papers up and skimmed through it. “You want me to turn over both properties to you,” she said quietly.

“I offered to pay you handsomely. I offered to take care of the simpletons you employed here. But you dismissed my offer. Now I'm taking the properties by force. Sign these papers or I kill Sherlock. Pretty little headshot, I think. Then, since you'll know I'm serious, you'll sign over his shares, which get reverted back to you, as well as your own. You do that, I'll let you and the baby walk out of this room healthy and whole. Don't, and all three of your lives are over and I buy the property and do what I please with it. Either way, I win.”

“Only if you kill me,” Sherlock said groggily from the other room. There was a man with a firm grip on his shoulder, and Molly could see a trickle of blood on his forehead and a busted lip. His face was swollen in places, and she could tell the man leading him into the sitting room had been punching him. “I don't plan on signing over anything to a psychopath like you.”

“Sherlock!” Molly said, her eyes wide. She stood but Moriarty turned and pointed the gun at her abdomen again. “Please. Let's just sign the papers. Losing the inn is better than losing you.”

“There's no guarantee he won't try and kill us as soon as he owns the place,” Sherlock said as he was roughly shoved towards the sofa. He took a few faltering steps forward and collapsed next to her. She tried to turn and comfort him but Moriarty made a “tut-tut” noise and she stopped. “I'm not signing anything and neither is she.”

“You really have a death wish, don't you, Sherlock?” Moriarty asked, training the gun on him. “Fine. I'll grant it. Eventually. Maybe a little torture will change your mind.” He aimed, then fired off a shot, hitting Sherlock in the shoulder. He spun slightly as Molly screamed.

“I've been hurt worse,” he said with gritted teeth. He looked up at Moriarty. “I'm still not signing the papers.”

“Sherlock!” Molly said. He pulled his attention away from Moriarty. “I'm signing over my shares,” she said quietly. “I'm not going to let you get hurt over this, or killed.”

“Molly, no. This is your home.”

“It is. But I love you more than I love this place. If he kills you then our child and I lose you, and I don't think either of us wants that.”

He was quiet, blood staining the sleeve of his white dress shirt. She wanted to get him something to stop the bleeding but she was terrified to move. After a moment he sighed. “Fine. What papers do I need to sign?”

“Wise choice,” Moriarty said with his feral grin. “You sign the ones on the left and Molly signs the ones on the right.”

“Pen?” Sherlock asked. The man who had beaten him up pulled a pen out of his coat pocket and handed it to Sherlock. Sherlock signed the papers, then stood up with some effort and took them over to Moriarty. “Here.”

Moriarty lowered the gun and took the papers, flipping to the end of the document. As he read what Sherlock wrote Sherlock made a grab for the gun. Moriarty was so surprised that Sherlock got it easily. He held it up and aimed at Moriarty. “You think you have me on the ropes?” he asked incredulously. “You don't have the brass ones to kill me.”

Sherlock lowered the gun and aimed for Moriarty's hip, shooting him there. Moriarty's looked up at him in shock. “Take your goon and get the hell out of my home,” he said.

“Sherlock, watch out!” Molly yelled as the other man advanced on him. Sherlock turned but the man knocked the gun out from Sherlock's hand easily before punching him in the face again. The gun landed towards her but Moriarty saw it too. She made a mad dash for it and got there a few seconds before he did, and she fell on her back. Moriarty was almost on top of her when she pulled the gun up and aimed it at his head. He stopped what he was doing. “Get away from me or I'll shoot you,” she said quietly. He nodded and backed away. Apparently he was more afraid of her with a gun than he was Sherlock. She got up off the floor and then swung the gun to the other man. “You,” she said as she watched him hit Sherlock in the gut. He turned to look at her. “Go over to Moriarty. Now.” 

“Don't kill them,” Sherlock wheezed, doubled over slightly.

“I wasn't planning to.” She moved around so she was facing her front door. “Go out into the hallway, both of you. Sherlock, come over here.”

Sherlock moved over to her as quickly as he could. She went next to him and put an arm around his waist, and he leaned into her, putting his arm around her shoulders to support himself as Moriarty and his henchman backed towards the door and then into the hallway. Molly kept the gun trained on them. “Why do you have such an obsession with me?” Sherlock asked as he and Molly followed them.

“Your grandfather was a very weak man. He wasn't getting pleasure from Lady Catherine so he decided to find it somewhere else. My grandmother was very willing, and she had high hopes that maybe she could convince him to be exclusive. But then she got pregnant and he discarded her.” He scowled after a moment. “She gave birth to my father, who married a common whore, and then the whore had me. And all I heard is how the Holmes men were the reason we were so low down on the social scale, that because my father was a bastard we wouldn't get to have what was owed to us. So my father gave me the money he could win counting cards and I invested it. Then I heard you were saving businesses, and I figured the best way to get my revenge was to ruin all your hard work. But you put up quite a fight to keep them. And then I heard about this inn and thought it was a golden opportunity to ruin not only the business but the sense of home you have with this place.”

“So the sins of my grandfather keep haunting me,” he said quietly as they got into the hallway and Molly had the two other men backing towards the stairs. “I am not my grandfather. I did not do those things to your family.”

“But your family ruined mine so you have to pay,” Moriarty spat out.

“No, I don't,” he said. “I don't care who you may have bought, I'm going to make sure you rot in jail for the rest of your life.”

“I'll be out by the end of the day and I'll come back after you,” he said. “I'll keep coming after you until I ruin your life. I'll start by killing her,” he said, pointing to Molly. “I'll kill her and I'll leave her body there all wrapped up in a bow. Then I'll find other ways to torment you. By the time I'm done you'll be a shell of a man.” They were nearly at the stairs now. “I'll rip out your heart and crush it between my fingers.”

“No, you won't,” Sherlock replied. He straightened up as best he could. “I will ruin you in every way I can, mark my words.”

“That's only if you live long enough,” Moriarty said. He charged at Sherlock, and the two men began to fight. Molly watched the other man run down the stairs, and she tried her best to keep the gun trained on Moriarty, but they were moving too much. The violent encounter propelled the two men closer and closer to the stairs, and finally Moriarty pulled away, pulling his fist back and slamming it into Sherlock's face. Sherlock dropped to one knee, and she could see it was all he could do to not collapse in a heap.

“I will shoot you,” Molly said when he straightened up, her voice frightened.

“If he wouldn't you certainly won't,” he said. She aimed for him but when she fired it went over his shoulder and right into the wall. Moriarty blinked as she moved more in front of him. “You actually would,” he said, shocked.

“If I aim for your chest next time I won't miss,” she replied.

He took a step back as she got closer, and then another. He was right on the edge of the stairs, but he wasn't paying attention. He tried to take another step back but there was nothing there. In what seemed like slow motion for Molly he lost his balance and fell backwards. He landed with a sickening thud on the stairs, and then continued to fall until he was in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. Molly dropped the gun and put her hands over her mouth as she heard footsteps pounding up the other set of stairs. Greg came up and looked up at her and then down at Moriarty. He went over and moved him slightly, and Molly could see his eyes were open but unseeing. He reached down for a pulse but pulled his fingers away after a moment. “He's dead,” he said quietly, looking up at Molly.

Molly felt like she was going to be sick, but there were more important things to worry about. “Sherlock's badly hurt,” she said.

“I'll live,” Sherlock said from behind her as Greg bounded up the stairs. She turned and saw him struggling to stand up. Instantly she rushed over to him and tried to help support him. Greg got to him minutes later and took over for her. “He's really dead?”

“Yeah. And the guy who bolted down the stairs is knocked out cold in the foyer,” Greg said. “John coldcocked him.”

“Good,” he said. “I think I need to see a doctor soon. I got shot in the shoulder.”

“We'll get you checked out,” Greg said with a nod. “Let's get you sitting down now. I'll call the constable when we get you settled.” He glanced over at Molly. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “I think I'm going to be ill.”

“Let's get you sitting down too,” he said as he guided Sherlock back to Molly's apartment. He got Sherlock lying down on the sofa after a bit of maneuvering. He moved away and pulled out his phone, dialing a number.

“Molly,” Sherlock said weakly. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, other than shaking like a leaf,” she said, moving over to him. He moved over a bit, wincing in pain as he did, and she sat next to him. She smoothed back his hair. “You kept me alive,” she said, giving him a shaky smile.

“I wouldn't let him hurt you,” he said as he shut his eyes.

“Don't you dare leave me,” Molly said, panicking slightly. “Don't leave me alone.”

“I'm not going to die on you, I promise,” she said. “I've been hurt worse than this before.”

“How could you possibly have been hurt worse than getting the snot beat out of you and shot in the shoulder?” she asked incredulously.

“I was beaten up so badly as a child once I had four broken ribs, a broken leg and more bruises than I want to remember. At least this time I don't have a broken leg.” He grinned slightly at that. “So I know I'll survive.”

“Don't joke. I don't think I can take it,” she said.

He opened up his eyes and moved his head slightly before moving his hand to grasp hers. She held onto it tightly and looked at him. “It's all over now.”

“I know,” she said. “But I don't know if this is any better. I killed him.”

“No, you didn't. He wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. It's his own damn fault he fell down those stairs. Don't blame yourself.”

“I'm not going to forget that any time soon,” she said, a shiver running through her.

“I'll be there for you however you need me,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I'll take care of you.”

“I think I'm going to be taking care of you first,” she said with a slight smile. “But I'll remember that for when you're better.”

He shut his eyes again. “Promise me you'll stay with me while I'm looked over.”

“I promise,” she said with a nod even though he couldn't see her. “Just relax as best you can, all right?”

“All right,” he said with the barest of nods. She went back to smoothing his hair back, even as Greg came back out, even as she could dimly hear sirens coming closer. She was going to comfort him as best she could and hope that when she needed him to he could comfort her. She just hoped that this truly was the end of such a horrible chapter in her life.


	19. Chapter 19

Sherlock had to be taken to the hospital and they made him stay overnight. He had five broken ribs, a broken wrist, a concussion and more black and blue marks than Molly had ever seen before, not to mention the gunshot wound. The doctor had said he would have to be in a sling for weeks, plus he would need physical therapy to make sure he was able to use his shoulder properly after it healed. But the doctors were hopeful that he would recover completely and she was grateful for that.

There was a constant stream of visitors once he was settled. His entire family and all the residents of the inn plus Mrs. Hudson and Jacob came by, until it got to the point where hospital staff had to limit them to three in the room at a time, including Molly. Finally the visitors tapered off and Sherlock and Molly were alone. Despite it being against regulations Molly climbed into the hospital bed beside him and they fell asleep next to each other. As far as she knew, no one tried to separate them.

The next day they made their way back to the inn. Sherlock moved slowly, and he was in great pain as he moved, but after ten minutes they finally made their way to where Moriarty had died. She felt sick again and he noticed, reaching over with his good hand to squeeze hers. “It will get easier,” he said softly.

“I hope so,” she said, squeezing his hand back. They stepped around the spot where Moriarty had fallen and made their way up to the third floor, where she let them into her apartment. “You should go take a long soak in the tub,” she said. “I think that will help.”

“That doesn't sound like a bad idea,” he said with a slight nod. “Join me?”

“In the tub?” she said a teasing smile, and she got one in return.

“If I thought we would both fit then that would be a good idea,” he said.

“I'll sit on the loo,” she said. “Are you going to need help getting undressed?”

He nodded. “Yes. I think it's going to be a while until I can move without being in pain.”

“Then I'll dump plenty of Epsom salt in the bath, too,” she said. They made their way towards the washroom, and she started setting up the bath. When it was running she helped him strip out of his day old clothing. The shirt still had the bullet hole and bloodstains on it and she knew it was going in the rubbish bin as soon as she left his side. He got into the tub as it continued to fill, and he leaned his head back and looked at her. “Feel better?” she asked.

“I do,” he said, shutting his eyes. He kept his broken wrist dangling over the edge of her tub. “Thank you for staying last night.”

“I'm surprised no one asked me to leave. I don't imagine they were pleased I was in your hospital bed,” she said with a chuckle as she sat down next to the tub. “Did you wake up and growl at them?”

“I did. It was the first real sleep you've gotten since we came back from my father's home. I wasn't about to let anyone wake you up before you were ready.” He sank farther into the tub. “I'm surprised everyone is so eager to sweep the entire incident under the rug. They really didn't question us much, did they?”

“No, they didn't. I think they're considering it an accident, even if there was a gun involved. I'm thankful for that. But I don't think I'm going to forget it any time soon,” she said quietly. “I mean, it was hard going by where he died. I don't know if it's going to get any easier.”

“I think it will, with time,” he said as he opened his eyes, looking at her intently. “And if it doesn't we can move the office to the first floor and move into your home earlier than expected. Everything is finished there. We just need new furniture, other than a bed. That was shipped there last week.”

“That might be best,” she said with a nod.

“Then that's what we'll do.” He moved his hand slightly and she reached over. He brushed his fingertips across her palm. “We have our lives back,” he said quietly. “We don't have to live in fear anymore.”

“I know,” she said with a nod. Then she sighed. “It's really not my fault he's dead?”

“Absolutely not,” he said adamantly. “You were in a fight for our lives. If he hadn't died I don't know if either of us would have made it.”

“It was so close. If he hadn't shot you in the shoulder I could have lost you,” she said. “He could have killed you with that shot.”

“I know. But he wanted to make me suffer. Killing me would have been too easy at that point.” He watched her shut her eyes. “I don't know if this will make you feel any better, but I was actively trying to keep him from getting to you. If it meant I had to kill him then that's what I would have done. I told you I wouldn't let you get hurt.”

“I know.” She got off the loo and moved closer to the tub, kneeling down next to him. “Do we need to stay here tonight? I mean, here at the inn?”

He shook his head. “My bed is at the house. We can see about getting some help to move a few things over today. But we can go there and stay there for now.”

“I'd like to do that,” she said. “I think it's going to be a while till I can be here.”

“Here on the third floor or here at the inn?”

“I'm not sure right now,” she said after a moment. “I hate thinking that I can't come back here. We've put so much into this place and I'm worried I'll never feel comfortable here again.”

“I still say you should give it time, but if it turns out you can't come back we'll make other arrangements. I think we can still run this place and not actually be here. We can simply hire more people than we anticipated and make the third bedroom in our home an office. And if either of us needs to come on site I'll do it.”

“That wasn't the plan,” she said quietly.

“Plans can always change.” He looked at her intently. “As good as this feels I can do this at home once we get settled in there. Why don't we see if Jacob is here and if we can use his truck to move over a few things that we need? I can always come back for more items while you stay at home.”

“All right,” she said with a nod. “Do you need help getting out?”

“I might,” he said. He moved forward and tried to get out of the tub but gave up after a moment. “I need help.”

She gave him an amused grin. “Then let me help you.” She offered him her hand and let herself be used to get up easier, and then when he was out she grabbed him a towel to dry off. Once he was dry she helped him change into fresh clothes and then waited for him to head downstairs. When he came back up twenty minutes later everyone was with him. “You don't all need to help,” she said.

“Well, it'll make it go faster,” John said with a grin. “And besides, neither you nor Sherlock should be doing heavy lifting right now. We can probably take some of the furniture and appliances and stuff in a few trips.”

“Besides, we can understand that you don't want to be here,” Sally said gently. “Frankly I wouldn't want to either, and I didn't even see it happen.”

Molly felt herself tear up slightly. “Thank you guys so much,” she said.

“Well, it's the least we can do,” Greg said with a nod, going over to her and giving her a hug. “So between all of us we have three vehicles. Let's figure out what's going between the two apartments, all right?”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Sherlock said with a nod. He looked over at Molly. “Why don't you tell Sally and John what's going from here?”

She nodded before glancing at her sofa, which had a bullet hole in it and blood splatter. “While we're at it, let's get rid of the sofa. I don't think I can look at it.”

“Of course,” John said. “So! What should we start grabbing from here?”

“I'll show you,” she said. The others left to go to Sherlock's apartment and Molly started showing them what she and Sherlock had decided would be going to their home from her place. Sally said she had saved all the boxes from when she brought hers and Molly's thing from London, and Molly had hers as well, so they went into the village to get packing tape and came back to tape up the boxes and start packing things. Irene and Mycroft joined them an hour into it, and both of them helped as well. It took quite a bit of time to get everything sorted, but after three hours Sally and Molly were sitting at the table as John hauled another box out of her apartment. Molly had made all of them a light meal and she and Sally were finishing their food. “It's going to be strange not being here,” Molly said.

“I know. I've quite gotten used to things being the way they've been,” Sally said. “With all of us being here. I mean, I knew eventually you both would leave and move into your home before you had the baby, but I had hoped it would be farther down the line and definitely under better circumstances.”

“Trust me, I feel the same way,” she replied before taking a sip of her juice. “I don't think I'll forget it for a very long time, if ever. I mean, I watched him fall. I heard him hit the stairs.” She shut her eyes and for a brief moment she saw him fall and heard him break his neck. She opened her eyes again and looked down at her plate. “And I hate that it all happened here at the inn. I hate that I might never feel comfortable coming back here.”

Sally reached over and placed one of her hands over Molly's before squeezing gently. “Just give it time. Take small steps to feel comfortable here again.”

“Sherlock said he'd see about moving the office to the first floor,” she said. “I might be able to handle that.”

“See?” Sally said with a smile. “If you don't have to come up here but you can stay at the inn to work that would be a really good start.” She removed her hand and picked up her own drink. “Let's change the subject for a moment. I can't wait to see what your home looks like. I mean, we never went there when we were kids, and there have been a lot of changes, right?”

Molly nodded. “Quite a few. I haven't been there since the last time we checked, before everything was finished and it was painted, but I think everything was coming along well. I hope the painting turned out okay. That's the only thing that worries me.”

“Well, if it did we have to remember to use them to paint the new rooms and the new dining area,” Sally replied. “And if it didn’t I’m fairly sure you can repaint everything later.”

“I still have to think about decorating the new rooms here at the inn,” Molly said. “And Sherlock and I need to decide if we want to redecorate the rooms in this building. I think I'm almost done convincing him we should.”

“I think it would be a good investment,” she replied with a nod. “Freshening up the old rooms a bit would definitely put your mark on this place, let people know it's under new management.”

“That's what I was thinking,” Molly said with a smile.

Sally was quiet for a moment. “With him dead we can reopen, you know. When the rooms are finished and decorated we can reopen the inn. We can actually go back to working and really making this place thrive.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “And I am thankful for that. I just wish it had all come about in another way.”

“I do too,” Sally softly. She looked at her food for a moment, then back up at Molly. “I'm going to make sure you have some food at your home, some things you can make easily without a lot of set-up. Just so you two can relax and Sherlock can get better, all right?”

“That sounds excellent,” she said, nodding. “That will help us out a lot.”

“Then we'll take care of that once we finish our food. I don't think John or Greg would have a problem taking the rest of your boxes and furniture down because I get the feeling once you get downstairs you aren't coming back up, right?”

“No, I'm not,” she said quietly. “Not for a long while, I think.”

“Then we'll take care of it and then you can go to your home and start rearranging things and putting things away. I'm sure once we know what we're taking we can handle it on our own.”

“I'm sure you all can,” she said with a chuckle. She finished off her drink. “I'm going to see how everyone else is doing and then I'll be back, all right?”

She picked up her sandwich. “I still have to finish this. I'll be here.”

Molly stood up and made her way over to Sherlock's apartment. Many of his things were boxed up as well, and all the sitting room furniture was already out of the room. “You all seem to have gotten a lot accomplished,” she said to Sherlock with a smile.

“With absolutely no help from me, either,” he said from his chair at the table. “No one will let me lift a finger.”

“Well, you're injured,” she said. “And if you think I'm going to let you do a lot of the unpacking at our home you're sorely mistaken.”

“I will be less sore in the next few days,” he pointed out.

“I know. But I want you to relax and get better.” She moved next to him and reached down for his good hand to hold. He grasped it tightly. “I'm going to go downstairs with Sally in a bit and get some food for us that's easier to prepare because neither of us are really up to making complicated meals.”

He nodded. “That's a very good idea.”

“Are you staying with me at our home after this first trip?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I'm coming back to supervise things. I know I'll be sore later but it's the best idea since I know you'd rather stay home than come back here.”

“Yeah. But I can put things away and rearrange the light things while you're here.”

“That's what I was thinking,” he said, giving her a smile. “In a few days we'll try and come back after I've seen about moving the office downstairs. We have the large room by the foyer that we hadn't decided on a use for yet. Do you think that would suffice?”

“That's a good use for that room,” she said with an answering grin. “And hopefully I'll be okay downstairs. I'm thinking it might just be up here that I'll have problems with. Or at least I hope that's the case.”

“We can see in a few days,” he replied. He let go of her hand and motioned for her to lean in more. She grinned and did so, and he kissed her softly. She moved one of her hands to his face, touching it gently. When she pulled away she gave him an amused look. “I haven't gotten to really kiss you since this morning,” he said with a grin.

“Well, then we should do it again,” she said with a chuckle before leaning in and kissing him. He moved a hand to pull her closer to him. She could tell he would like them to be much closer but they both knew that would hurt him too much. Soon enough they'd be able to, though. He was going to heal and then they would be able to get back to how things had been before. Life was going to go back to normal again. When they pulled apart the second time she reached over for his good hand again. “I'm going to go back and finish up there and then start getting the food. I think John was putting things in my car so once Sally and I get the food situated we can head out and I can start unpacking and sorting a few things.”

“All right,” he said with a nod. “I think the furniture might be ready to be moved soon in the truck so if you can wait that long you can show everyone where you want everything to go.”

She nodded. “That sounds good to me.” She squeezed his hand and then made her way back to her own apartment. She and Sally did a few more things there and then took as much of her refrigerated food as they could carry in one trip, leaving the pantry items in untaped boxes for John and the others to bring down. Sally began going through the inn's kitchen and pulling things out, and soon Molly thought she had enough food to feed them for at least a week, maybe two. Then they all made their way to her home and began moving things inside. She was very pleased with how everything looked, and her friends were all suitably impressed. It took many hours to move everything over, and Molly took advantage of having a working kitchen by cooking for everyone while they were moving. It was rather nice to have people over and cook for them, she realized, and she hoped she had more opportunities later.

It was nearly eleven in the evening when the last box was moved in. Molly and Sherlock were exhausted even though neither of them had moved very many things. Molly had managed to have just enough energy to start a fire about thirty minutes earlier, and they were sitting on his sofa nearby it. He had his good arm around her shoulders and she was snuggled in next to him. “We're finally home,” he said quietly after ten minutes of silence.

“And there's still a lot more unpacking to do,” she said. “I think we got all the essentials out, though.”

“We'll worry about the rest tomorrow,” he said. “But the furniture and all the things we wanted to keep are here, so that will make things easier. We can rearrange and decorate as I start to feel better.”

“Well, I can do a lot of that without your help,” she said with a smile. “I think the whole home turned out quite nice. It suits both of us.”

“Yes, it does,” he said with a nod. “It is very much our home now.”

“It is, isn't it?” She pulled away and smiled at him slightly. “I think we'll do very well here. I think we can have a good life here.”

“I think we can too,” he said with a smile of his own. He moved his arm away from her and reached up to touch her face, running his fingers along her cheek for a moment. “I think this might be our first real test of future wedding vows. The 'in sickness and in health' part.”

She chuckled. “Well, I promise I'll take good care of you. Which reminds me, did you want to soak in the tub again?”

He shook his head. “It's been a very long day, and while I'm sore I think I can deal with it tonight. I'd just like to relax here for a while and then try and get some sleep. We don't have anything pressing to do tomorrow so we can afford to sleep in.”

“That's a very valid point,” she said as he lowered his hand. She moved closer to him and gently set her head on his shoulder. “I am very glad it’s all over and that you weren’t hurt worse than this. I think being away from the inn for a bit will help me come to grips with everything.”

“Did we still want to turn the third bedroom into an office?” he asked.

“I think that would be a good idea,” she said with the barest of nods. “I mean, even if we have the office at the inn it wouldn’t hurt for you to have a place to deal with your own business, or for us to bring things home. Less chance our children can get into things.”

“So you want more than one child?” he asked.

“Not right now. As I’ve said before, having twins and trying to run the inn would be a pain. But later I’d like more than one. Two sounds just about right.”

“I would like two,” he said. “I don’t think I would mind having a boy and a girl. Or two girls.”

“Not two boys?” she asked in a teasing voice.

“I’d prefer girls, but if we had two boys that would be fine. I still think Mycroft needs to settle down and have children of his own, and if I have a boy that might not happen.”

“I don’t know. I think he and Irene are getting quite serious,” she said thoughtfully. “Do you know what her plans are?”

“Since she’s no longer in danger she’s returning to London,” he said. “Not quite right away. She’s offered to stay and help with the inn until it reopens, as a way of repaying what she feels is her debt. But she and I have talked and I think I’ll mentor her in creating a business like what I used to do.”

Molly lifted her head up. “She wants to do what you did?” she asked, looking at him.

He turned and nodded. “She’d be quite good at it, I think. While she’s here we’re going to make plans, but I’ll instruct her on what to do and how to figure out which businesses are worth saving and which ones are lost causes, plus I’ll make myself available to assist if she needs me. I’m going to talk to a few of the business owners I helped to see if they know anyone who would be willing to use her help.”

“That’s very nice of you,” she said, giving him a smile.

“Well, it’s a good service to offer, and I think I would like to stay here and handle the inn more than I would like to go back to it. And she might not be doing it alone.”

“Oh?” she asked, surprised.

“Mycroft was quite serious about stepping down from the company and retiring. The discussions he’s been a part of that we’ve had have intrigued him. I don’t think he can stop working because it’s a part of his DNA, but I think he might help her as well, and he’s got experience she doesn’t have. It would be a great help.”

“Is her past with Moriarty going to come back to haunt her?”

“I doubt it. There are some business owners who might be wary, but if Mycroft and I publicly support her she can weather through it, I think. We’ll make sure she can prove herself. And to be honest, I think she’ll be doing just fine in a year, and probably won’t need our help at that point. She’s smart and determined to craft a life doing something else.”

“That’s good,” she said with a smile. “I like seeing my friends do well.”

“So you two are friends?” he asked with a grin.

“I’m fairly sure we are.” She set her head back down. “New topic. Did we move over everything we wanted to move over?”

“There may be a few things we go back and get later, but I’m fairly sure we got everything,” he said after a moment’s thought.

“How much of the furniture and such that we left there do we want to keep?”

“I’m attached to some of it, but not all of it,” he said. “Why?”

“If I ever go back to our apartment, I don’t think I can have anything of mine in there, and I think I’ll need it to look different. I think that might be the only way I feel comfortable going back there after everything. And Jacob doesn’t have anything, not really. He could take what he wants and buy the rest later, and then we can move over the furniture of yours we’re keeping and get new things for the rest.”

He nodded. “That actually sounds like a very good idea. I already told him the bed that was in my apartment was his to keep, so he didn’t need to worry about getting one. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind if we give him everything and just let him sort what he wants and what he doesn’t.”

“Good,” she said with a nod. “And this time I’m paying for the furniture and the painting and all of it, and you can’t stop me.”

He chuckled. “If you insist.”

“I do. You’ve paid for so much and while I know a lot of it has been gifts I want to do something nice too.” She turned her attention to the fire. “Eventually we’ll have to set up the bigger bedroom for our child. That will be interesting.”

“I honestly have no idea what to get for a child’s room,” he said. “I’d never thought I would have any so I didn’t pay much attention to the few infants I came in contact with.”

“I know the basics,” she said. “And I get the feeling you’ll learn quickly.”

“Do you think we’ll be good parents?” he asked.

“I think we’ll be on par with your parents,” she said as she lifted her head up again, giving him a fond smile. “We’ll definitely be better than my mother.”

“Good,” he said as he grinned back. Then he yawned. “I think I’m more tired than I thought.”

“Well, it’s been a long day today and you’re still bruised and battered,” she said. “Do we want to go to bed now?”

“I think that might be a good idea,” he said with a nod. They got up and made their way to their bedroom. The furniture was in place and their clothes were in the closet but there were boxes stacked all over the room. It took them a few minutes but she found the shirt of his she slept in and he found his own clothes. They changed into them and then got on the bed which Molly had made earlier in the day. This time she put her arm around his waist and held him close instead of the other way around. “Molly?” he murmured after a few moments, his voice tinged with sleep.

“Yes?” she asked.

“I love you.”

She smiled. “I love you too. Good night.” She waited for a response but didn’t get one, and she smiled to herself before settling in and letting sleep overtake her. Despite a few possible problems, life was quite good right now, and she was grateful.


	20. Chapter 20

Following Moriarty's death things settled into a routine, one Molly was thankful for the more time that passed. She tried her best to get Sherlock to rest and recover but he wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly at the inn. They worked out a compromise: he had set hours when he could work and it wouldn't exceed more than five in a day, and then the rest of the time he was at home and under her care. This lasted the entire time it took for him to wear the sling, and by the time he got it off they had upped his work hours to eight. Molly had decided she liked the set hours of work idea for both of them and after some discussion with him he finally agreed that it was, in fact, a good idea.

They got the third bedroom set up for an office within a week, and Molly stayed there to do most of her work. The more time she spent away from the inn the more she missed it and everyone there, but she still wasn't comfortable with the idea of going back until nearly three weeks later. Her friends didn't push, even after part of the inn reopened. She was grateful for that because she felt like such a failure for not being able to go there. The day she was finally able to go back, nearly a month after Moriarty had died, she only stayed on the ground floor. She had no desire to go anywhere near the second floor landing or up to the third floor. It posed a few difficulties, but everyone was so happy she had come back at all that they all worked around it.

The inn reopened completely a few weeks later, once the remodeling of the foyer was finished. They had revamped the rooms on the second floor like she had wanted, and the day before the inn reopened fully she went to the second floor landing with Sherlock by her side. She had not seen the changes that had been made and had wanted to see them, wanted to see if she would ever be comfortable enough to go up there. She had a slight sense of unease but she handled it very well, aside from crying with relief that she could actually do it. Sherlock had held her tight for quite some time until she got it all out, and when she went back downstairs Sally whipped up an impromptu meal to celebrate. That was when she knew her life was back to normal.

Once the inn was completely reopened the real test of her training began. They were filled to capacity within a week of reopening, and she went into the challenge with as much grace and stamina as she could muster. Even though she had set hours to be at the inn she would still come home exhausted from the stress of handling customers and their various needs and complaints. The first week was very rough, the second week got easier, and she found her rhythm by the third week. It was after she was handling the front desk on her own and one woman called the front desk panicking about flushing her engagement ring down the loo while another woman was trying to extend her stay by three days even though they were booked for the month that she realized she could do this, that she could really handle the guests with more ease. She was quite proud of herself by the end of the day.

Irene had stayed quite a bit longer than planned, nearly two months into the inn's reopening, mostly because Sherlock had arranged a trial run for her services at one of the businesses in the village. He stepped away from his duties at the inn once again to shadow her as she did the work and made the decisions, and within a few weeks the business already saw vast improvement. Molly was glad she had stuck around; the two women really had become friends in the time they were all living together under the same roof, and when she finally returned to London Molly found she had missed her company, though Irene assured her that Mycroft had plans to check in on his family more often and if she could she would accompany him.

Molly began spending quite a bit of time with the women in Sherlock's family when she could spare a day away from the inn. They were very much keeping their word to love her as much as they could, and she couldn't be happier. She honestly loved Victoria so much more than her own mother, and Victoria in turn did all the things a mother normally would have done when her daughter was expecting a baby. And Sherlock's grandmothers gave her advice and support in everything related to having the baby as well. She was grateful for all of it, especially when she began getting some of the mood swings commonly associated with pregnancy. His entire family loved her unconditionally, even when she felt she was treating Sherlock exceptionally poorly, and they kept reassuring her that in a few months it would all be over. She had the feeling Sherlock was getting the exact same advice from his father because he was taking it better than she had thought he would.

Overall the pregnancy unfolded well. She was careful about what she ate and drank, and she tried to do a bit of exercise to stay healthy, but she worried until she had her first sonogram at five months. The moment she saw her child on the screen moving around and she heard the heartbeat she began to relax; when she felt the baby kick for the first time she felt more assured that everything was going well. The first sonogram didn't reveal whether she was having a boy or a girl, so they had a second one three weeks later with the hopes that the baby would be in a better position. That time the doctor was able to tell them that they were having a daughter. The news was met with good cheer all around, even from Mycroft.

They ended up repainting the baby's room themselves because originally it had been painted white and they both felt that was too sterile for the room. She had put her foot down on it being pink, and Sherlock had been amused when she began picking out yellow and green paint for the room. He told her he was fairly sure she would be spending more time in the room than he would at first so if she wanted a green and yellow room to sit in he would oblige. She rather enjoyed decorating the nursery with Sherlock. They inherited Victoria's old crib from Annabelle, a heavy wood one with delicate looking flowers carved into it. Annabelle had told them that her husband had carved the flowers into it himself, and Molly had been even more honored that she thought they should have it.

As time went on she got more and more eager for the baby and less inclined to be on her feet at work all the time, especially when she found she was beginning to swell slightly at her wrists and ankles by the time she was six months pregnant. It was nothing to be overly concerned about, according to her obstetrician, but just in case she should try and keep from standing for long periods of time. The other employees at the inn surprised her with a high stool to keep behind the front desk by the computers they used for reservations, and Greg or Mrs. Hudson made sure they were available to take care of any needs that would require her to move around a lot. She spent more time on that stool than she did anywhere else the last two months of her pregnancy, even though everyone tried to tell her it was all right to stay home and rest. She had been just as bound and determined as her fiancée was to make sure the inn was a success.

She was now in the home stretch of her pregnancy. Her due date was two weeks away and even she conceded that she needed to cut down on her time at the inn. Today she was sleeping in, or at least trying valiantly to do that. She'd been feeling dull pains all night and it was quite uncomfortable. Finally she gave up and slowly got up off the bed. Sherlock was still sound asleep, but she knew he would wake up relatively soon since he was always awake within twenty minutes of her getting out of bed, no matter how exhausted he had been the night before. She made her way to the kitchen, intent on making a cup of tea, and was almost there when she felt wetness trickle down her leg. Her eyes went wide. “Sherlock!” she called out before heading back to the bedroom.

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes slightly. “Yes?”

“I think my water just broke,” she said.

She watched his eyes get wide. “You're not due for two weeks,” he said, throwing the covers back.

“Well, I think she wants to come today,” she said. She felt a twinge of pain. She'd been feeling them off and on throughout the night but hadn't thought much of it. Perhaps she should have. She looked over at him. “Should I even bother getting dressed before we go to the hospital?”

“Do you really want to go in your nightgown?” he asked, coming over to her.

“Good point,” she said with a nod. “I mean, they'll probably put me in a hospital gown the minute I get there, but I don't want everyone seeing me in my nightie.” She moved over to her closet as she felt another twinge of pain. “I think we might have a problem.”

“What problem?” he asked.

“I think I just had two contractions only a few minutes apart,” she said, looking at him with wide eyes. “I think I've been having contractions all night.”

“Do you think we can make it to the hospital?” he asked, concerned.

“I honestly don't know.” She looked over at him. “How long does it take for...oh!”

He moved over to her. “Another one?”

“Yes,” she said with a nod.

“I don't think we're going to make it,” he said with a frown.

“Am I actually going to have the baby here, do you think?” she asked with wide eyes.

“Possibly.” He guided her back to the bed. “I'll call for emergency personnel, see if someone can get you here and to the hospital more quickly than we could.”

“Well, hurry,” she said as she felt another twinge of pain. He helped her get back onto the bed but she didn't get back on it, instead clutching the side. He went to his nightstand and grabbed his mobile. He called the emergency number and spoke with someone, but she wasn't paying much attention. She picked up her own phone and set it on the bed to keep track of her contractions. “They're coming two minutes apart,” she said after a few moments.

He nodded, then went back to his conversation. Then he looked at her. “According to the operator there probably isn't enough time to get you to the hospital. We may be having our daughter here. They're sending someone just in case, but we might have to do that ourselves.”

“This is not what I wanted at all,” she said with a groan. “Where should we go for now?”

“You should probably get back on the bed. Right?” he asked the operator. He was silent for a moment before nodding. “Back on the bed is best.”

“I am so sorry that I didn't pay attention to the twinges last night,” she said, climbing back on the bed. “If I had we'd be at a hospital and it would be easier.”

“Well, this is your first pregnancy. You didn't know any better,” he said. “If we never have another child after this I will understand completely.”

“We'll see how this delivery goes before we even think about that.” She felt a lot more pain with each contraction. “This bloody hurts.”

“Do you remember the breathing you practiced?” he asked.

“I do,” she said with a nod. She began to do the breathing exercises she had learned in the class as he dashed out of the room, phone to his ear. She was concerned for just a moment before the pain hit again. Their daughter wanted to come out and she wanted to come out _now_ apparently. “I would like it more if you were in here, Sherlock!” she called out through gritted teeth.

“I'm getting the things we'll need if you end up delivering the baby here,” he called back, and she relaxed for a moment before another contraction hit. She went back to her breathing and after a few minutes he came back in, phone clenched between his teeth and his hands full. He set the things down and then set the phone down next to her before setting it on speaker. “I've been told to see if I can see her,” he said. “Right?”

“Yes,” the woman on the phone said. “If you can see the crown of the head it means she's about ready to have the baby now.”

“Let me get my knickers off first,” she said. She got off the bed and pulled the sodden scrap of fabric off, then with Sherlock's help got back on the bed. She spread her legs open and he looked. “Well?” she asked.

“You're going to have the baby very soon,” he said. “I can see the crown of the head.”

“Wonderful,” Molly murmured.

“All right,” the woman said. “Molly, do you feel the need to push?”

“I think so,” she said. “I'm not sure. This is my first child.”

“You'll be able to tell,” the woman said as she got hit with another contraction. “If the baby is already down the birth canal you should push. Find something to grip because I can assure you that it's going to hurt.”

“I'm going to push,” she said, gritting her teeth and grabbing fistfuls of their comforter in her hands. “I just want this pain to stop.”

“All right,” the woman said. “Push now.”

Molly pushed, shutting her eyes. It hurt. It hurt more than anything she had ever felt before. “The head is out!” Sherlock said.

“All right, that's good, Molly,” the woman said. “Now comes the hard part, getting the shoulders out. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth. She pushed again and this time she screamed. If she thought it had hurt before the pain this time was immeasurable. “Please tell me I don't need to do that again,” she said when she was done, panting a bit.

Sherlock reached over for something from the things he had brought, and after a moment she heard a baby's cry. “You don't need to push again,” he said.

“Oh thank God,” she said, going limp.

“Well, you still need to deliver the afterbirth, after he cuts the umbilical cord,” the woman on the phone said. “But that won't hurt. It's going to be messy, though.”

“I don't care,” Molly said as she saw Sherlock grab a length of twine and then a pair of scissors. “Can I get it out now?”

“Not just yet,” he said. After a moment he stepped away to pick up the baby blanket. “We need to clean her up, but she looks very healthy.”

“If he's got the cord cut and you need to push again, push,” she said. “You did very well, Molly.”

She pushed one last time and then sagged afterward, completely spent. “Am I done now?” she asked.

Sherlock nodded. “Yes. We'll definitely need to replace the sheets, and probably the mattress, but I think it's all done.”

“I don't care.” She looked at him. “How does she look?”

“Dark curly hair, like me,” he said with a smile. “She definitely has your eye shape and nose.” He moved closer to her. “Just remember we have to clean her up first.”

He got close and she looked at her daughter. “Oh my God, she's beautiful,” Molly said in awe.

“Yes, she is,” he said with a nod.

“Did the two of you pick a name for her yet?” the woman on the other end of the phone asked as Sherlock handed their daughter to Molly.

“Yes,” Molly said, staring down at the baby. “Marguerite Elizabeth Holmes, after my Nana.”

“That's a beautiful name,” the woman said. “The ambulance should be there shortly, within ten minutes. I'll stay on the phone with you until they arrive.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said, watching as Molly held out a finger for their daughter. Marguerite grasped it in her fingers. “She's quite beautiful,” he said.

“Yes, she is,” she said quietly. They lapsed into silence, each of them staring at their daughter until the heard sirens approaching their home. Sherlock pulled himself away from his family to let the medical personnel in. They checked over both baby and mother, and decided just to be on the safe side to take everyone into the hospital. Molly got on a stretcher and they wheeled her out to the ambulance, placing Marguerite in her arms. They got her into the ambulance and Sherlock got in with her, and they made their way to the hospital. Molly was checked in and taken to her own room, and Marguerite was cleaned up and given to Sherlock to hold. After Molly was settled she motioned for Sherlock to bring their daughter to her. “I may be nice and let you have another child,” she said as he handed her the baby. “As long as next time I deliver her in a hospital.”

“Well, next time we know what to expect,” he said with a slight chuckle, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “But we definitely need to replace the mattress, or at least flip it over for now.”

“I made that much of a mess?” she asked, making a face.

“I didn't realize childbirth was all that messy. I'm just very glad I have a strong stomach.”

“Well, now we both know better,” she said with a nod. She adjusted the hat on Marguerite's head. “Eventually we need to tell everyone else.”

“I know. I just wanted to enjoy some time with just the three of us,” he said, moving to the chair near her bed. He moved it closer to her and then sat down. “She really is quite exquisite.”

“Yes, she is,” she said with a nod as the little girl yawned. “I can't believe that it all happened so quickly. It hurt like hell, though.”

“You did it without any medication. To be honest, I'm surprised you're even entertaining the thought of having another child, even with the stipulation you be in the hospital next time.”

“Well, I want two girls,” she said. “And you do too.”

“This will definitely be an interesting story to tell her when she's older,” he said.

“Oh yes. We'll definitely have to tell her that it was a complete surprise and her father delivered her at home,” she said with a chuckle. She looked over at him. “You did very well too, you know. Everyone says I did well but you didn't panic. That helped immensely.”

“I knew if I started panicking you would start panicking and that would make things worse. But truthfully I was terrified something was going to go wrong,” he said.

“Trust me, so was I. But we really lucked out, didn't we?”

“Yes, we did,” he said with a nod.

“Well, I'm going to be here overnight,” she said. “Just to be on the safe side. And the nurse who settled me in here remembered us. I was told to tell you that under no circumstances are we to share a bed tonight.”

He laughed. “But I do get to stay?”

She nodded. “You get the other bed in the room.”

“Good,” he said. He moved his chair closer to get a better look at Marguerite. “I think we'll be very good parents,” he murmured as she yawned.

“Yes, I think we will too,” she replied with another nod. “We already got through a home delivery without panicking. I think we can get through pretty much anything else at this point. Or at least I hope we can.”

“I'm fairly sure we'll be able to.”

Molly looked at him. “Do you want to hold her again? I'm feeling quite tired suddenly.”

He nodded. “I would love to.” She handed their daughter to him and he stood up. “Get some rest now,” he said, leaning over and kissing her forehead. “I'll try and keep the visitors at bay so you can sleep for a little while.”

“Thank you,” she said with a yawn. She shut her eyes and before she knew it she was asleep. It seemed as though she was asleep for quite a long time before she woke up again. The room was quiet except for the sound of someone singing softly. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw Sherlock moving around the room, Marguerite in his arms. She couldn't recognize what he was singing, but she had a huge smile on her face as she watched them quietly for a moment. Sherlock really was going to be the best father, she thought to himself. She sat up a little bit more and cleared her throat, catching his attention. “I'm awake.”

“It's been about five hours,” he said, moving closer to her. “Everyone at the inn has come to take a look already. I swear, it's the quietest I've ever seen all of them be.” He grinned at her. “My family is on their way. My mother said you would probably be exhausted so they would wait.”

“Well, I was,” she said, sitting up even more. Sherlock handed their daughter to her. “Have you been holding her the entire time?”

“Only when someone else wasn't holding her. My arms are getting very tired,” he admitted, sitting back down.

“What were you singing to her?” she asked, staring down at the sleeping infant.

“My mother taught me the lullaby that used to put me to sleep when I was young. I had vague memories of her singing it to me when I was a young child, but when she sang it again to teach it to me I remembered it all. I don't think I sing it nearly as well as my mother does, but it appears to do the trick.”

“You'll have to teach it to me,” she said, looking over at him with a warm smile. “Has she stayed asleep the whole time?”

He shook his head. “I fed her for a bit. I know we said we were going to use formula so the nurses gave me some for her.”

“You're going to be an excellent father,” she said fondly. “And I think she's going to have you wrapped around her little finger.”

“I have no doubt about that,” he said with a chuckle. “But I don't think I'll mind too much.”

“Yeah, I don't think you will either.” She sank back into the pillows more. “I'm quite happy right now. I mean, I knew I was going to be happy, but watching you with her filled my heart up with joy. I almost didn't want to ruin the moment.”

“Well, I expect it will happen much more frequently in the days to come,” he said as he leaned back in his chair. “Knowing me I'll try and let you sleep as much as I can. As has been demonstrated on numerous occasions, I can leave the bed and you don't wake up.”

“I know,” she said with a slight laugh. “But you don't have to get up all the time, especially if you're going to the inn every day.”

“Greg told me to take some time off, that they could handle things,” he said. “And I think I'm going to do just that. Take a few weeks to enjoy being a father before I have to really think about work.”

“Good,” she said with a nod. “You know, I think tonight I may decide to ignore the nurses and have you lie down next to me anyway.”

He laughed at that, but tapered it off when he saw Marguerite stir. “I don't think I can growl at them to get them to let me stay this time,” he said quietly. “We can handle one night sleeping in separate beds, I think.”

“But just the one,” she said. “Now that I'm not huge and pregnant I may be able to get more than a few hours of rest at a time.”

“I hope so.” He stood up and after a moment sat on the edge of her bed. She moved over a bit more to give him more room. “I didn't get to tell you something this morning,” he said after looking at the two of them for a moment.

“What did you want to tell me?” she asked.

“I love you, Molly Hooper.”

She grinned at him widely, then crooked a finger at him. He leaned forward and kissed her softly for a few moments. When they pulled apart she looked at him. “I love you too, Sherlock Holmes,” she said fondly.

“Good,” he said with a nod, giving her a wide grin, and when he did that she realized that her life was damn near perfect. She had never felt this happy before, she realized. Never felt this complete. And as she turned her attention back to their daughter she realized that the new life she had hoped to have when she inherited the inn was going to be better than she had ever imagined, and she was profoundly glad for that.


End file.
